Qi

The Journey of your Life

Hans Peter Roel

We forgot about our biggest source of happiness: our life energy.

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© 2011 Hans Peter Roel

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Title: Qi, The Journey of Your Life

Author: Hans Peter Roel

ISBN: 978 907 9677 19 1

Publication November 2011

Cover: Looney2

N.E.X.T. Publishing Company BV Baarn, The Netherlands.

www.nextcompany.nl

info@nextcompany.nl

Note that this manuscript cannot be used or made public in any form or any other way without the written consent of N.E.X.T. publishing company B.V.

Heaven on Earth

The short time of our earthly existence

is meant to discover our soul.

The soul is as unique and recognizable as the sun and moon

and it will wait patiently till we bring it to life.

If you have the courage to go beyond your ego

to discover who you really are;

You will see a beautiful and pure human being, which can withstand defeat

and knows its own powers.

If you wake up and your heart opens up

then the Qi within you will start to flow.

The discovery of heaven, which you build here on earth

An inner power has taken hold of you.

Why write this book?

“Qi, The Journey of Your Life” is a reflection of my personal growth. It is a novel with a lot of autobiographical elements. In recent years I have seen what the inner power of Qi does to people. I want to make the knowledge of Qi accessible to everyone.

The world is changing at a tremendous speed and it seems as if these changes are coming more rapidly every day. Globalization really does its job well. It takes a lot of energy to keep adjusting to all these changes. The pressure of our daily worries takes up most of our time. Look at your life: E-mail, social obligations, raising children and a growing workload. When do you have time for yourself?

Our private life and our work keep mixing with each other more and more. When you ask someone how it’s going, the predictable answer is, “Busy, busy, busy.” We pretend to be in control, but deep down we know that is only an illusion.

This rapidly changing world creates opportunities, but they all come at a price. Insomnia, burnout and depression are just a few of the health problems we can potentially encounter. More than sixty percent of all medical problems are directly and indirectly caused by stress.

Is this our destiny? The hard answer is: No!
In our hectic western society, we forgot all about our inner power. Deep within every human being is a huge source of energy that gives us the stability and calmness of a Buddhist monk. You can compare it to the center of a hurricane. The world is changing with a wind force 12, but in the center of a hurricane it is quiet. There you will find peace and stability in this hectic world. Deep inside of us is our Qi, which many of us have forgotten about, but everyone possesses it.

This book lets you rediscover your inner power. Qi will give you energy, peace and stability to face this hectic world. Stress will melt away as snow in the warm morning sun, and you will feel happy and energetic. That’s the way life is supposed to be.
Is that difficult? Not really, you just need to know about it and you should be willing to learn about it. You already took the first step by picking up this book. And if you apply the steps of this book to your life, you will notice that you have much more power than you ever had before.

But first, go along with Peter on his journey in this book “Qi, The Journey of Your Life”. This way you’ll learn of the secrets behind the power and serenity that Buddhist monks have. They own hardly anything more than a bowl, and yet they radiate happiness, inner peace and strength. This primeval force is not only for the Buddhist monks who live high up in the Himalayas. Every human being can call on this force through a few simple exercises and principles.

I too used to be a victim of stress. It was during my trip in the Himalayas when I was 33 years old, that I came in contact with Qi. Then my life changed forever. It was as if I learned about a whole new dimension. I want everyone to be able to feel this way.

We think too much about everything and forget about our primeval force. This book was written to help you rediscover this inner power and show you how you can use Qi in your own life. Qi is the key to a healthy, energetic and happy life.

I invite you to come with Peter on his journey, to rediscover your Qi.

Hans Peter Roel

November 2011

The Abyss

“My God, or whoever you really are, please help me! I can’t take it any longer,” I murmur with folded hands and closed eyes. I didn’t have a religious upbringing, but I always had the feeling that there is more between heaven and earth. I don’t see God as a man dressed in white with a long beard, but I see God as a form of universal love. And at the times that I really need it, I address myself to this higher power.

Next to me I hear Christine breathing quietly. She’s unaware of the confusing thoughts that slowly take a hold of me and drive me into despair. I know the stages of depression very well. I’ve been through them all till the bitter end.

It started with sleeping badly and no longer being able to sit still. My concentration diminished because of my lack of sleep, and soon everything was too much for me. I couldn’t do anything. Next came the second phase of my depression. It was as if the evil forces could smell that I was vulnerable, and they knew they could turn the entire world against me. I didn’t get anything done, and my misfortune seemed to grow bigger each day. Slowly, I got wrapped in a cocoon of loneliness.

After a few weeks the whole process seemed to move quickly. I disappeared into a vortex of negativity and loneliness in which I could not escape. I didn’t see a way out and my mind was driving me into despair.

I still vividly remember this depressive period that started a few years ago. I felt like a rolling ball, an unstoppable rolling ball, rolling down a mountain. I kept forgetting things and the dark forces slowly took a hold of me. Negative thoughts and delusions dominated my mind, and sometimes I didn’t want to live anymore.

In this phase, even my blue sleeping pills didn’t help anymore. I was restless all night, tossing and turning in my bed. I forced myself to go to sleep, but this was in vain. Every hour I could hear the church bells ring. The last phase was all about waiting for the final blow, which would take away my job for a long time.

There’s a chill going through me as I open my eyes and look at the red numbers on the clock radio that’s blinking at me on the bedside table. I didn’t want this anymore, but against my will I kept getting sucked into this black hole; the abyss of my soul, of which I am afraid. I helplessly watched while the process took place. My God, I don’t want to see that cold emptiness again. Therefore, I pray – as a last resort – to the higher powers for help. I toss and turn in an attempt to go back to sleep, but sleep does not come. Last night I was one of the few people that spent eleven hours at the office. I was still in the dealing room of my employer. I work for a successful bank. I follow my stocks on the several screens that fan around my work space. As a stockbroker for a major international bank, I have to secure my position. This seems almost impossible, so I finally decided to go on much needed vacation for one week.. Luckily the adrenaline kept me going the previous weeks.

Every day I trade with millions of Euros on the stock market, and one wrong move can be fatal. The rules of the dealing room are extremely tough, and I know this all too well. I work daily in a world of power and stress, where no excuses are tolerated. Reducing my stock holding last night gave me a lot of extra stress. Wall Street had opened lower, to my great sorrow. I had to sell with a loss. Taking my loss, even after so many years of experience, is still difficult for me.

Shortly after hearing the church bells strike three, I fall asleep with a pounding head. Almost immediately I’m in a significant but strange dream. Maybe it wasn’t even a dream! It looks more like a vision. I’m taking a stroll in a large, dark forest. It’s a bright night and I’m walking alone. I can see beautiful sparkling stars through the trees. It’s unclear to me why I’m even in this forest. I walk along the dark path until a white structure looms before me in the moonlight. The square-shaped building stands in the middle of a clearing in the woods. It looks like a monastery, and it radiates an almost magical atmosphere. I feel that this building is the reason for my visit to the dark forest. After some hesitation I decide to enter the white monastery. The old heavy oak door creaks when I open it slowly. There is no one in the monastery, and it’s so quiet there that I can hear the ringing in my ears. After some hesitation I step inside. I cautiously creep through the dark corridor and into the lit courtyard. In the middle of the courtyard stands a large golden box, which appears to give light in the moonlight.

“Peter, open the chest,” I hear a deep voice say from out of nowhere. Startled I look around me, but I can’t see anyone.

“Open the chest,” I hear again, but this time in a more urgent tone.
Little by little I move towards the chest. A shiver shoots through my spine. Carefully I open the lid of the creaking golden chest and my eyes widen in surprise. A number of large stones lay, lit by the moonlight, on a velvet red cushion. They have the nicest colors I’ve ever seen. The colors seem to come from another dimension. What do these beautiful gems have to tell me?

One by one I take the shining stones out of the box and put them in my pocket. I feel incredibly powerful, and a warm feeling arises in my stomach. I don’t know this feeling, but it seems to be a feeling that I’ve unconsciously been waiting for. The stress falls off my shoulders. The ever-present void in me fills itself. There is even a smile on my face. The powerful gems have done their job.

Then the world around me begins to spin and the vision disappears. When I wake up, I hear the church bells strike five. My hands automatically go into the pockets of the pants of my pajamas, but they are as empty as they were when I got into bed. Disappointed, I stare at the ceiling and hear Christine’s regular breathing next to me.

Explaining dreams is always a vague activity and is more for old and dusty people, not me. But my dream lingers. Never before have I had such a vision. This must mean something! It looks like a message from a higher power.
I think about a possible meaning for the vision. Now that I’m awake again, I better use my time in a useful manner. The most likely explanation seems that I have to go explore the gems of my own life. At this early hour there appears a faint smile on my face and I relax. For a moment I am freed from the dark forces that seem to take over my mind for the second time.
I am convinced that this dream has something to do with our upcoming vacation to Nepal. In the Himalayas I’m going to get new insights on my life. Something inside of me tells me that Nepal is going to bring so much more than just relaxation. I once heard from friends that the Himalayan region is so spiritual that it seems as if you are closer to the higher powers. And although I do not like vague spiritual things, the Himalayas seem to attract me anyway.

I turn around and fall into a restless sleep. It seems like I have hardly slept at all when the alarm goes off. The red numbers on the clock tell me it’s just six o’clock. That is normally the time when I get up and go to work. But today is a different day, because tonight we will be in Kathmandu.
It’s still dark outside and I can hear the raindrops tapping against the window. The autumn this year is wetter than I have ever seen. Because there is so much rain the fields are muddy and even partially flooded by the huge amount of rain. Downstairs I hear the heating boiler come to life. Christine moans and turns again in a hopeless attempt to ignore the sound of the buzzer.

“We’re going on vacation, honey,” I whisper in her ear.
She moans again and turns towards me. I stroke her long, blond hair.
Christine has been looking tired these last few weeks. She really needs a vacation. My stress has a major influence on her life as well. Sometimes there is very little left of the Peter that she married five years ago. I try to be, but I can’t. Something in my head seems to block out my emotions. It makes me feel lonely, and I have a hard time giving her the love that she deserves.

“How did you sleep, darling?” She moans, as she stretches.

“Ok,” I lie. When I try to get out of bed I feel dead tired. I try to focus on the vacation. Finally I’m getting a break from stock markets, my emails and my ringing cell phone that dominate my life every day. Tonight we will be in beautiful Nepal!

The Other Side of the World

We park the car at the airport and walk with our backpacks to the check-in desk. While checking in, my cell phone starts ringing. My boss Rick is on the line, and he isn’t happy with the stock transaction I made last night.

“I had to reduce the positions, Rick,” I try to plea on my behalf.

“We’ll have to talk about this when you get back. You’ve gone too far this time,” says Rick in a quiet voice, oozing with a cold undertone.
Christine is instantly irritated and looks at me angrily.

“Stop working all the time and shut that darn phone off,” she hisses at me.
I do what she says, then put our labeled backpacks on the conveyor belt.

“Even on vacation you take your work with you,” Christine sulks.
Christine works as a manager at a medium-sized pharmaceutical company, and she’s used to problems with employees. But even with all her experience, it’s impossible for her to really get through to me. We drink a cup of coffee when we are through customs, but Christine keeps sulking.

“At your explicit request we’re only going for one week and even then you’re still working. This is not what I expected from our marriage,” says Christine.
I mumble something as I look at the television in the café, which is on the business channel and shows the stock market. I hear Christine talking, but I’m not listening. The current developments on the stock market on Wall Street give me an inspiration for a new strategy. It’s a brilliant move in order to regain the losses I’ve made. At the gate I call Rick to tell him about the strategy. Christine is sitting next to me and sighs. The vacation mood is starting out sour.

In the plane, I can’t sleep, so I close my eyes and think about my life. From the outside world, everything seems successful. I have an exciting job, enough money, a beautiful house, a BMW and an attractive and sweet wife. Who wouldn’t want such a life?
However, I know and live with the other side of myself. Peter is work and work is Peter. In recent years I’ve became aware of the emptiness my life would have if I didn’t have my job. I try to forget that feeling by working hard. Unfortunately, that doesn’t work. The feeling of an empty life remains. And that’s precisely what hurts so much, that I’m aware of the emptiness. The outside world doesn’t see this side of Peter. Nobody knows my fears and vulnerabilities.

To know the emptiness that lives inside me is one thing, but doing something about it has proven to be difficult. My work and success are the chains that keep me from having to delve into my fears. Of course I’ve tried everything there is to try in recent years: therapy, workshops, books, you name it. Yet nothing has taken the fears away. Now I’m on the edge of a new depression. This shouldn’t be happening.!

After a 10 hour flight, we finally fly over the white peaks of the Himalayas. The weather is clear and the views of the Himalayan giants in the early evening sun look fantastic. I finally start to relax now that I’m thousands of miles away from the dealing rooms at the bank. In the distance I can see Mount Everest. The snowy peaks against the inky blue sky give a glamorous look. Even my mind seems to get a bit lighter. Although we’ve never visited the Himalayas before, I get an odd feeling as if I’m returning home. Christine is also looking out the window. She is a beautiful woman, and she’s had to endure way too much lately.

Half an hour later we land at the International airport of Kathmandu, which lies in a valley. We depart the plane via a rusty staircase. I immediately turn on my cell phone, but see that it has no signal. The mobile revolution has not yet made its way to Katmandu. I sigh and put my “lifeline” deep into my coat pocket. It’s still warm and early in the evening, but luckily it’s not too humid. The weather is different from the departure this morning, in our cold and wet little country.

We board a rattling bus and we are driven from the airport to the arrivals hall. The visa and passport check takes a long time, but we eventually get five stamps on our passports and make it through customs. Our backpacks are lodged somewhere between the suitcases of the other passengers. I immediately recognize Christine’s bright red backpack sitting next to mine.
I start to relax and Christine becomes a bit more talkative. Stress and tension are now on the other side of the world. I decide to be a bit nicer to Christine on our vacation.

We pick up our backpacks and let them hang loosely over our shoulders. Apparently however, we shouldn’t have done this. Immediately two porters start running towards us. With some sort of sign language, they take our backpacks from us and they walk us to the taxi stand. Then they gently put our luggage in the trunk of a waiting taxi. I give them both five rupees. They bow deeply and keep saying “Thank you, sir!” I’m pretty sure I gave them too much.

The dirty taxi is so full of rust and holes that it would never be allowed to be on the road in the Netherlands. Yet we are grateful for the transportation as our jet lag takes over and we are in desperate need of our hotel room. The old driver smiles at us when we get in. He has yellow, nicotine-stained teeth, and the front two are missing.
The car makes a lot of noise but we eventually set off towards the city. Meanwhile it’s gotten dark in Kathmandu. Apparently they’ve never heard of streetlights in this part of the city. We occasionally see people walking about outside, with the car’s headlights providing us light to watch them. Little groups of people are sitting around small oil lamps along the side of the road. The contrast with the world of the big money is enormous.
Christine is still looking outside. Suddenly it dawns on me that she doesn’t look very happy. Hopefully this holiday will change that.

Hotel Narayani is one of the nicest hotels in Kathmandu, but it in no way measures up to western hotels. Our room is furnished with all the essential basics and luckily it’s clean. As soon as we arrive, a friendly waiter gives us a glass of Nepalese rice wine to welcome us. A crooked old man brings our backpacks to our room, and we tip him well.

Christine looks grumpy and remains quiet. I look at her. It seems as if a brick wall is now between us that blocks our contact with each other. The passionate love we knew before we married has changed to tolerance. We say that we still love each other, but the passion is gone. With my own problems, I don’t have the time to put more energy into our marriage.

Christine undresses and takes a shower. At half past eight we go downstairs to the restaurant, and sit at a nice little table with candle lights. We both order a glass of rice wine, and a stew of vegetables with beef curry and rice.
There are only a few tables occupied in the restaurant. I feel empty and tired, as if all the stress from the recent months is coming out. There’s a strange silence between us. To break the silence, I tell her something about my work. Christine directly gestures that she doesn’t want to hear about it.

“Not this week, Peter,” she sighs. “I don’t care about the bank.”
I stare at the flame on one of the candles and keep my mouth shut. Fortunately, a waiter with a friendly smile comes to the table with our order. This way we can focus our attention on the food. Silently, I start eating the local specialty.

An old Nepalese man is sitting at a table by the window, watching us.
After eating a few bites, I can’t take it anymore.

“Christine, you’re so quiet lately.”
Christine shakes her head and I see tears welling up in her eyes. She has a hard time trying not to cry.

“Peter, your one-sided view of the world ruins so many things, and you don’t even realize it.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault again,” I defend myself.
Christine lets out a deep sigh and bends towards me.

“I mean to say that you look at the whole world from your works perspective. When is the last time you’ve been to a play or the last time you’ve showed interest in other people? You haven’t been to a museum in years. You cancel most evenings that you were supposed to go play squash, and we hardly talk about the things that really matter in life. There is more to life than shares, business fairs, rallies and options, Peter. It’s time you wake up, before the next burnout catches up with you.”

“Now you are just exaggerating!”
Christine shakes her head slowly. “When was the last time you really paid any attention to me or my work? There is more to life than that bank, Peter.”

Suddenly the message hits me. It’s like being in a locked cage with mirrored glass, where only stock charts were projected: the small, limited world of a successful stockbroker. Suddenly I realize how I have lost contact with the real world. I look into Christine’s sad eyes.

“Honey, I needed all the energy I had to keep my head above water. I threaten to slip into the swampy area of depression again, where burnout and stress rule. There is simply no energy left for other things. I want to, but I can’t!”

“Peter, don’t you realize what you’re destroying?” Christine sighs.

“What am I supposed to do about it?”

“We’ve talked about this so many times,” says Christine. “Maybe this vacation will help you open your eyes. You are already at the edge, Peter.”

The mood isn’t too good at our table when a friendly waiter comes to bring green tea.

“You’ve became such a cold person,” Christine tells me. “Do you still love me?”

“What a weird thing to ask!” I say. “Of course I love you.”

“You don’t pay much attention to me and we hardly ever have sex,” notes Christine. “And when we do make love, I feel like I’m sleeping with t Wall Street instead of with Peter.”

“This has nothing to do with you.”

“Well if not me, then with who?”

“I just have too much on my mind.”

Christine shakes her head again and sips her tea. I see the ignorance and the sadness in her eyes. There’s a long silence.

“Well, let’s enjoy this holiday and not be too difficult,” suggests Christine. “We are only here for one week after all.”

I don’t know how to respond. I notice that the same old man at the table by the window is still staring at us. I look him straight in the eye, but he turns his face away from me. Still he doesn’t stop looking our way. I look at him intently, but he still steals peeks at us.

“Is something wrong?” Christine asks.

I nod my head in the direction of the Nepalese man.

“That guy has been watching us the whole time.”

In the meantime the waiter comes to bring us our bill. I pay for it.

As Christine turns her head,the old man smiles and nods at her.

“What a freak. He’s probably never seen a blond woman before,” whispers Christine while taking her last sip of tea.

When we get up, I look again at the stranger. I feel like he’s planning something. I need to keep an eye on him, that’s for sure. You can never be too careful. I’ve noticed several times in my life that no one is to be trusted. I’ve also realized that I’m not even sure if I can trust myself.

Back in our room, we close the door tightly, and put a chair in front of it. You can never be too sure in these countries. We refresh ourselves and before going to bed I take two light blue sleeping pills. My little friends have to help me to get enough sleep in these difficult times. Every night I take them faithfully before I go to sleep. First one pill was enough, but two months ago I decided to take two. Although there is a clear warning on the bottle, I’m still considering switching to two and a half sleeping pills a day. I can’t take these long, black nights anymore.

The City of Secrets

In the morning I can hear the city come to life while the sun shines into the room. With the help of my little blue friends I fell into a deep sleep last night. I can’t remember the last time that I’ve slept through the night. Christine is still asleep beside me. I look closely at her. What a beautiful woman she is! Unfortunately our relationship is slowly bleeding to death. My depression and stress have killed the passion in our relationship. I’m often too tired to make love to her. And when I’m in the mood on the weekends, Christine isn’t in the mood. So these passionless weeks chain together. We are slowly drifting apart, but I can’t do anything about it. Yet we love each other and there are the occasional moments of tenderness and passion.

I have trouble getting up from the hard mattress. Today we will explore sunny Kathmandu. A one week vacation is a short time, so we have to experience it as intensively as possible. I open the window and suddenly hear chirping birds. I haven’t consciously noticed birds in about five years. In the dated bathroom I grab my razor and look in the mirror. What I see doesn’t make me happy. A tired looking face is staring back at me, with blue circles under my eyes and wild curly hair. My eyes have lost their joy and strength. The recent periods of stress, not enough sleep and depression have left its marks on my face. Last month I turned thirty-three, but I look like I’m 10 years older.

I sprinkle cold water on my face. This vacation will do me good, I’m sure of it. Meanwhile Christine enters the bathroom and looks at me with sleepy eyes.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” I call to her cheerfully.

“Well, well, you are in a good mood.”

“Yes dear. We’re on vacation.”

After Christine takes a shower, we go to a restaurant for breakfast. Christine has her hair tied in a ponytail. Her bright red lips go beautifully with her light-colored face. She is the kind of woman you can be proud of as a man. I wonder what I did to deserve her. I also wonder why I’m doing everything I can to lose her.

It’s busy in the typical English style restaurant. It appears that a group of Australian Mount Everest climbers are staying in the hotel. Big, tough guys with red, printed sweaters are sitting together at a long table, making a lot of noise. One of them looks admiringly at Christine and makes a comment. Then the entire group begins to laugh while looking at Christine. We act as if we haven’t noticed. A small and obliging waiter comes towards our table with delicious coffee.

With a travel guide in front of us we make a plan for the day. Despite the heavy feeling in my head, I’m looking forward to it. For a moment I forget all the problems from the Netherlands. Outside the hotel there is a special city waiting for us to discover it.

After breakfast we get up to go to our room. Upon leaving the breakfast room I hear one of the men from the expedition team whistle loudly at Christine. The others laugh, while Christine keeps looking ahead.

When I reach the reception desk I stop. The old man who was staring at us last night is now at the door. He smiles at us when he sees us and walks towards us. What does he want from us? In understandable English he introduces himself with a slight bow as Tenzing, and offers his services as a guide. I hesitate. He comes across as a friendly man. He is very peaceful and you can automatically sense that. I let go of my suspicion. Apparently, I misjudged the man last night. This man is only offering his services as a guide.

After a brief consultation, Christine and I decide to make use of his offer. If you’re only on vacation for a short period, you should use your time as efficiently as possible. We agree to meet in the reception area in 15 minutes. Back at our hotel room, I pack a bottle of water, my camera and our travel guide in my backpack. Then we put on our hiking shoes and walk back to the reception area.

Tenzing is already waiting for us with a big smile on his face. He greets us with a broad grin, which makes it clear to me that he urgently needs to see a dentist.

“What’s the program for today?”

“I’ve read something about Durbar Square. That seems interesting to visit,” says Christine.

Tenzing nods and leads the way while talking to us. He is fluent in English, but with a heavy typical Asian accent. An old, grey Jeep is waiting in front of the hotel. With a bit of trouble, Tenzing gets the engine up and running. Somewhat reluctantly, that old diesel engine comes to life.

We drive through the busy streets of Kathmandu towards Durbar Square and enjoy the chaos of the streets. The world is so different here than at home. If you look through the car window it seems as if you are watching a movie. Along the road are many market stalls filled with people sitting on old worn-out rugs., Some of the stalls are covered with corrugated roofs. Sometimes you see a donkey pulling a cart through the chaotic traffic. Little Japanese cars are making their way through traffic, while loudly honking their horn. In front of us is a rusty old bus with people sitting on the roof and even more people hanging outside while holding on to the bus. The bus leaves a trail of greasy black smoke behind.

Tenzing is trying his best to tell us things about Nepal and Kathmandu, but because of the roaring engine and his thick accent, I can only hear bits and pieces of his story. I did learn however, that Kathmandu is the busiest city in Nepal, with a lot of poverty and high unemployment rates. We look out of the car window again. There are several people on the streets, and almost all of them are trying to somehow make some money. We see shoe shiners, barbers and a ton of food stalls with exotic products. Daily life here takes place on the streets.

After a half an hour we arrive at Durbar Square. Tenzing tells us that Durbar is the Nepalese word for palace. He parks his jeep in a narrow side street, and leads us to the ancient palaces and stunning temples near the square. Less than a hundred years ago, the Nepalese kings lived here. The palaces are now old and damaged from the exhaust fumes of traffic. The atmosphere in the square is pleasant though, and many people, despite their poor existence, laugh at us and nod.

We walk into one of the old palaces, which Tenzing calls the Hanuman Dhoka. Despite the fact that the walls are crumbling and blackened on the outside, the palace still looks impressive inside. Even in this state, the grandeur of the Nepalese kings is still visible. The silence and the beautiful mosaic ceilings show how powerful they were. It’s quiet here so I take some pictures of the colorful mosaics, then go and sit next to Christine on a little wall. We look out over the neglected gardens of the palace. I notice a pair of bright yellow birds playing in the old fountain. Tenzing is standing a little further away, discreetly waiting for us. I relax for the first time in what seems an eternity. No stock markets of traffic jams! I gently stroke Christine’s hand, and although she looks at me, she doesn’t pull her hand away.

After five minutes we get up and walk back to Tenzing. We walk across the square and stop in front of the Kasthamandap Temple. Tenzing says that this temple was founded in the year 1212. I once read something about the Mayans, whose calendar ends abruptly in 2012. I don’t believe in all that stuff, but apparently the number 12 has something magical.

At the entrance of the temple lay a couple of large, bronze lions that look at me threateningly. I grab my camera and take a picture of the scene. Tenzing tells us about how special the temple is, because it holds two religions.

“On the ground floor is a large and ancient statue of the God Ganesha. A striking feature of Ganesha is his elephant head,” Tenzing explains. “He is the God of knowledge and wisdom, and also the patron saint of travelers. Every day thousands of Hindus come here to worship Ganesha.”

The temple is extremely crowded. We walk inside and admire the ancient stone statue, between many Hindus in white. Then we walk the wide staircase to the first floor. In this room there is a large golden Buddha. It’s less crowded in here. In front the Buddha sits a lot of flower petals and burning incense. Two bold priests dressed in orange are sitting in the corner of the temple, meditating.

We have a beautiful view of Durbar Square through an open window. We look for a while at the people buzzing on the square. In my mind I wonder how the next couple of days will be. We also want to make a trip to the Himalayas. I turn around towards Tenzing.

“We want to spend the next three days in the mountains. Perhaps you know a guide who can take us?” I ask. Christine also turns expectantly towards Tenzing, while he is rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“Maybe I could be your guide,” answers Tenzing. “I know a beautiful route: the Langtang route.

I look up at Christine, who gives me a brief nod.

“How much will the Langtang route cost us?”

“10 dollars a person per day.”

That seems reasonable. Money shouldn’t roll, but should be invested is my motto. Therefore we are careful with our money, despite the fact that we have above average incomes. I also have a generous bonus scheme. In years that the stock market does well my bonus can be up to a hundred thousand a year.

“ It’s a deal.”

Tenzing nods kindly. A little later we walk to the jeep to drive to the next tourist attraction.

“This is Freak Street, a relic of the turbulent hippie years,” says Tenzing as he parks his Jeep. “In the sixties and seventies it consisted of mainly cheap hotels and street cafes with hashish.”

We get out and walk down the street. There are still a lot of colorful hippies around here, some with their backpacks on one shoulder. The hippie atmosphere is still around after all those years. There is a group of young backpackers on a terrace. I observe them and they seem to radiate joy and happiness. Maybe they don’t have much money, but they know freedom and fill their days the way they like. Deep in my heart, I desire more freedom in my life. Unfortunately I’m trapped in a cage of hard work, and always longing for more, more and more.

Now and then the smell of pot is stronger than the sweet scents of the many food stalls along the road. We walk into a shop while Tenzing waits outside. An old Nepalese man nods kindly at us. After looking around the shop, the man gets a silver object from behind a curtain. It’s a little carrousel on a chain with a heavy ball on it.

“Special for you, my friend,” says the man, smiling kindly.

I want to help this man get something sold.

“How much?”

“200 rupees, sir,” says the old man.

I look at him intently. The negotiations have begun.

“Too much.”

“It’s beautiful, sir.”

After some negotiations, I get the Buddhist prayer wheel for 150 rupees. The old man needs the money more than I, and yet I would under no circumstances have paid the full price. The prayer wheel is carefully wrapped in old newspapers and we walk out of the store. The old man keeps staring at us of a long time. For just a short period of time our lives have crossed.

Tenzing guides us to a small local restaurant for lunch. He then excuses himself and we agree to meet again in two hours. Our table has a beautiful view of Freak Street. My eyes fall on a small, whitewashed temple, a little further down the street. At the entrance sits an old, scrawny man with a red dot on the middle of his forehead. His dreadlocks are tied in a bun. I grab my camera and zoom in. The man has a long, grey beard and is quietly meditating. What a remarkable man, I think, while I put my camera away again. I wish I could see what was going on in his mind.

I get the prayer wheel out from my backpack and I inspect it carefully. When I open the lid of it, I find, to my surprise, that there is a scroll with Buddhist prayers in it. The waiter comes to bring our sandwiches and cola.

“Peter, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you so relaxed,” notes Christine. She smiles encouragingly at me.

“Maybe it’s the altitude, but I just feel more relaxed here than at home.”

After a few hours Tenzing returns to the restaurant.

“I’ve made all the purchases that we’ll need for our hiking trip. For this afternoon I suggest we go to the stupa Kathesimbu, and afterwards I will drop you off at the hotel. You can take time to relax and prepare for our trip.”

We agree with Tenzing and drive to the stupa, which is just outside the center of Kathmandu. From afar we can already see this special temple. The base is a large white square building. On top of the white building is a spherical white stupa with eyes painted on it. The eyes look at us. On the top of the stupa are strands of multicolored prayer flags moving in the wind. Tenzing says that a Buddhist stupa is a structure that symbolizes the four elements: earth, water, air and fire. The eyes are a symbol of truth, kindness and mercy.

After visiting the temple, we go and sit on a wall so we can watch the spectacle that’s going on around the temple. Monks in orange robes are walking around the stupa muttering their prayers while turning their prayer wheels.

“What a great atmosphere here,” notes Christine. “This is really beginning to look like a vacation.”

I have to agree with her. It’s as if I’ve stepped into another world. The great secret of Kathmandu lies within the relaxed ways in which people live their lives. They have few possessions, but they are truly happy with their lives. They barely know about shares, the Internet or cell phones. They live closer to nature than we do in the west. After visiting the last temple of the day, Tenzing brings us back to the hotel.

“Tomorrow at nine o’clock sharp, I’ll pick you up. Make sure you’ve packed your bags and are ready to go.”

We wish him a good night and go to our room. For a moment I think about checking my email on the old computer in the lobby. But Christine gives me an all- knowing look, so I decide against it. The rest of the afternoon is spent preparing for the adventure, but in the evening we a take a stroll around the hotel and return to the room to make love. Evening comes, and we decide to get something to eat down the street. The feeling of being rushed that I’ve carried with me for so long seems to have remained in Amsterdam.

Dinner is unfortunately not successful. The fatigue and jetlag are catching up with Christine and me. She says little and is almost falling asleep at the table. We can’t even make it to dessert. At nine o’clock we are in bed. Christine falls into a deep sleep. I grab a sleeping pill, just to be sure. Above all I don’t want this wonderful day to end with a long and black night full of tossing and turning. At two o’clock I take a second sleeping pill. I’m frustrated that even on vacation I can’t go without my sleeping pills.

The Trip

The next morning I wake up around five o’clock, bathing in sweat. I lay still, yet my thoughts keep running. They play a bizarre game with me which I have no influence on. I can’t do this anymore! I’m only 33 years old and I already feel like an old man in the last days of his life. How did this happen? My thoughts slip away to the past.

After my studies I immediately started working as a junior at the bank. I proudly told everyone that I was the assistant to a successful investment banker. He has taught me how to trade and how to do my job. My strong desire for status and prestige were being fulfilled with this job. Everywhere I went, I was deeply admired when I told people I was working in the dealing room of one of the largest banks in Europe.

However, the status comes with a high price. In the dealing room, I often work long hours of up to 80 or sometimes even a 100 per week. The work is addictive; at least I find that it is. The world of the dealing room is hectic, but also exciting. There are days that I take options for a hundred million Euros. I’m addicted to the tension that clings to such deals. There are days when I earn millions for the bank. The success didn’t go unnoticed and within no time I saw my paycheck getting bigger and bigger, and my bonuses higher. The money came pouring in. This party seemed to last forever, until I fell into a deep depression two years ago. Seemingly out of nowhere, my body gave up. I had always thought I could handle everything and nothing could stop me. Life then showed me that there are limits. What is money worth if it ruins your health? I know that now. I did everything I could to get out of that period of depression. Every opportunity that was handed to me, I grabbed it and went as far as I could. I even took up a yoga class on a wet Tuesday evening, surrounded by eight or so middle-aged women. Needless to say, that was my last class. I desperately searched for more, and any time a new therapy session came out, I was there. Yet still, I couldn’t succeed in beating this stress, insomnia and depression. This depression keeps ruling my life. The dark haze in front of my eyes seems to be permanent.

I take a deep breath, turn on the hard mattress and patiently wait until the sun comes up. Around half past seven I wake up Christine. I take a hot shower and take my time. While I’m shaving, I can see that the circles underneath my eyes have not disappeared. Darn, this is my third day on vacation and I still feel extremely tired. Christine on the other hand, has had a good night sleep and is very cheerful this morning. Before we go to breakfast, we drop off our packed backpacks at the reception desk.

When the clock strikes nine, Tenzing is waiting at the reception area. Our backpacks are already in the back of his jeep. Tenzing cranks the jeep up and starts to drive east. The city slowly starts to come to life, and the daily activities start all over again. There are farmers from the Kathmandu Valley who are selling their food at stalls along the streets. I stare out of the window of the jeep, looking at all the people sitting, waiting and walking along the road. They look happy with their lives, even though they barely have enough food to feed their families. I’m quiet and I feel grumpy, because I haven’t had enough sleep. Even with two sleeping pills, sleep still would not come. In the jolting car, my thoughts go on their own course again. It’s like a game they play with me, but it never stops. Suddenly, I’m back in Amsterdam in the dealing room. Did Rick still manage to sell my positions in the United States without losing millions? I certainly won’t be getting my bonus this year. Rick hasn’t been very positive about me in the past few months.

Christine looks outside and doesn’t say much. I can see that she’s lost in thought. Even though Kathmandu Valley is an enchanting environment, we are still not quite in the holiday mood.

Tenzing parks his jeep at a temple along the river.

“This is Bhawandi Temple,” he says.

It’s a busy place. I see women doing their laundry in the river while washing their bodies at the same time. There are two bonfires going on for the cremations that are to take place later today. Afterwards the ashes will be spread out along the river. The bodies are wrapped in white cloths, lying on the river banks. When Christine sees the corpses, she wants to leave right away. The confrontation with death is too much for her. After a brief consultation with Tenzing, he starts the jeepand we head back to Sanga, where our trip begins.

Sanga is a small village with only a few whitewashed houses. There is an unpaved road leading through it, and Tenzing decides parks his jeep there. It doesn’t seem like a lot of tourists come to this village. We get our backpacks from the back of the jeep. There are a few people on the street, watching us curiously. Once we have our backpacks on, we follow Tenzing across a narrow bridge towards the mountains. The sun is blazingly hot, standing high in the sky. The trail is unpaved and narrow. Tenzing goes first, but I’m immediately behind him and Christine ends the line. We keep going on while time slowly ticks away.

A few hours later we make our first stop. I’m beat, red-faced and can’t catch my breath. I haven’t been exercising or playing sports, and it’s definitely showing. Tenzing notices our weary faces and hands us two cups of tea.

“What time do we arrive today?” Christine asks.

Tenzing shakes his head slowly and smiles.

“Time is a strange phenomenon,” he answers cryptically. “Western people always seem to want to control the time, but they don’t understand the concept of time. You Westerners are always in a hurry, but what for? All that rush that you learn about only gives you stress. But it doesn’t give you extra time. That is why we do not rush in Nepal. If you do not hurry, you still get the same things done in the same amount of time. It is a miracle, but it is true. You do not get time, you make time. I can’t really answer your question of what time we will arrive. When the time comes, we will arrive.”

Christine shrugs, letting Tenzing know that she doesn’t understand. So Tenzing keeps talking.

“Look at the beauty around you. Time doesn’t matter here. It is not important. The sun rises and changes places with the moon. Together they have eternity.”

Tenzing gets up and gets ready for the next part of our journey. Still impressed by his words, I look at the old, wiry man. He has given us a glimpse into the wisdom that he possesses. He’s right; the stress virus has also taken ahold of me. I always feel that I never have enough time. And why? Haste does not prolong my life, and perhaps it even makes it shorter. I solemnly tell myself to banish all the haste from my life from now on. Strangely enough it feels like the right decision to make.

Tenzing seems to be dancing up the mountain path even with the weight of his heavy backpack. Amused, we fall into a steady pace behind him. The surroundings are beautiful, but I don’t really pay attention. Red-faced, I try to find the strength to keep going on. While I’m walking, the black haze appears in front of my eyes again. I start to wonder if I’ll be able to sleep here in the mountains. If I can’t even sleep well here in the mountains, how will I ever be able to sleep at home? I can’t continue to take sleeping pills forever, can I? On the other hand, I know that chronic sleep deprivation comes before my next burnout. So my thoughts keep going in the same thinking pattern.

We stop at a small house where we can order some Coca-Cola. Even in this remote place, the ultimate symbol of the West has penetrated. We take a seat at a wooden table right outside the house, and I slide my backpack off of my aching shoulder and place it beside me.

“It’s beautiful here,” says Christine, who is clearly in better physical shape than me.

I look around me, taking in the beautiful scenery that I ignored before. I close my eyes and turn my face towards the sun to enjoy the sunlight. I feel the warmth against my cheeks and it penetrates the pores of my skin. I feel the heat of the sun inside of me, and the warmth gives off a strength that seems to open me up from the inside, allowing my body to drink in the sunlight. The first cracks in the black haze in front of my eyes become visible, and the rays of light touch my mind. It’s not surprising that in ancient cultures the Sun God was one of the most important Gods because he brought life. I can sit here forever, taking in the nourishing sun on my skin. Yet, before I’m ready, our refreshing break ends, and we’re back on a steep trail. Tenzing is lost in his happiness while I’m having a difficult time keeping up. Involuntarily my thoughts once again move back to the dealing room. How will Rick react when we lose millions? My opportunism has me trapped. I had hoped to make up for those losses with a big position in Nasdaq, but simply put, I gambled and lost. I understand the penalty. I’ll get fired, but probably with a large “get lost” bonus.

“Stop!” I mumble to myself. I can’t change the outcome of my job out here in the Himalayas. There is nothing I can do about it while I’m here! I’m here on vacation and I’m trying to enjoy myself, but my work keeps getting in the way. I wish I could just let it go

We keep walking, and even though the trail evens out, I am still having a rough time. I take my sweater off as the heat beats down on me, noticing that the straps on my backpack have caused large red whelps to appear on my shoulders.

For the rest of the afternoon we make our way through the mountains. We take an occasional break. I’m exhausted, but I don’t want to give up. It’s not in my nature. As darkness falls around us, we finally arrive in a small mountain village with only three houses grouped together. Tenzing points to an old barn where we are to sleep tonight. Although this is different from what we are used to, the primitive nature of sleeping in a barn has something romantic to it. So I keep my mouth shut, and walk towards the barn.

Relief washes over me when we reach the barn and I can stop walking. The endeavors of the day will surely make my muscles sore tomorrow morning.

“Luckily we are here now,” I say to Christine, I sound relieved.

“I haven’t seen the good part of this dirty, old barn yet,” she snaps. First she inspects the barn for the presence of spiders and a then reluctantly puts her mattress and blue sleeping bag on the floor. I take out my mattress and sleeping bag from my backpack, and lay it down next to hers.

With our toothbrushes, we walk to the mountain stream that flows next to the village. As I pull my boots off and put my tired feet into the stream, I feel the stinging of ice cold water sink into my skin. Christine takes her washcloth and soap and starts washing. It strikes me that the village is so quiet. It seems as if time stands still here. Only the gentle flowing of the stream disturbs the peace. The icy water washed Christine’s anger away. We sit together on a rock, and she casually puts her arm on my leg.

“It’s so quiet here,” she sighs.

I put my arm around her and give her a kiss.

“Tonight we are going to make love,” I whisper in her ear.

“Yeah, nice and romantic in that filthy barn,” she answers.

The smell of grilled meat coming from the barn area entices us. Following the scent, we smile as we notice Tenzing in front of the barn roasting a chicken over an open fire. A strange man and little girl are standing beside Tenzing, carrying on a conversation. I assume the man owns the barn as he gives the girl a short command. The girl runs into the barn, and returns a few minutes later with three tin plates. She notices us now and smiles kindly. Her black hair is braided into two long braids that dance around her face. Tenzing cuts the chicken into three pieces and hands us plates. The fresh free-range chicken is delicious. You can taste the purity of the mountains. After dinner, the girl takes the plates away and goes to the river to wash them off. She wears a dark brown, worn dress, but looks cheerful and happy. Her mother – if she even has one – is nowhere to be seen.

A Bizarre Idea

The dark starts to set in and the silence makes my ears ring. Only the crackling sound of the fire disturbs the silence. The man and the little girl immediately went inside after dinner, not to be seen again for the rest of the evening. We put our thick sweaters on and get cozy around the campfire. I look intensely into the flames and slowly become hypnotized. The flames seem to burn away the black haze that’s crept back in front of my eyes. For the first time I start to feel happy as the night grows pitch dark and Christine leans on to my shoulder. Tenzing excuses himself into the barn, then returns with a bottle of rice wine and three mugs.. He pours each of us a cup then goes back to his spot next to the fire.

“Tell me something about you,” Christine asks Tenzing.

“Well, what can I tell you? I was born 56 years ago in Khare. That is a small village up high in the mountains, with stunning views of the Annapurna. My parents were farmers who had to work hard every day to support us. I am their youngest child, and have an older brother and sister. Because my parents were out on the land for most of the day, except for the winter period of course, my sister Mhare raised me, really. We were poor, but despite that we were a close and happy family. In the winter we spent more time together. Every night we would be at home together and sing traditional Napalese songs. My mother had a beautiful high voice which I vividly remember. Despite the poverty, I was happy.

That happiness seemed to last forever, but the Gods had other plans. High in the Himalayas, the winters are very cold and life is hard there. I was only six years old when in the middle of a cold winter, my mother became ill. She got severe pneumonia while it was below twenty degrees outside, and we could hardly heat the house. No matter how young I was, I can still remember her coughing and having breathing fits. There were nights when I would wake up and notice my mom having a hard time breathing, which scared me. There was no doctor in the village, so the village elder was called. Because of the extreme cold that winter it was impossible to take my ill mother to the hospital in Pakhara. The village elder made a spice blend for my mother to cure the pneumonia. But it didn’t work. After one week, my mother died on an early morning. All of a sudden she just stopped breathing. Suddenly, the wheezing disappeared and it went quiet. I woke up as if I was woken by my own mother and I called out for my father.

He panicked and began to cry, while he kept stroking her hand. Her death has shaped my life. I was so young and didn’t understand death. My mom’s body was kept in a frozen state in a locked shed behind our house. Every day I went, dressed in thick clothes, to sit in front of the barn, hoping she would wake up. When the worst cold was gone, she was ritually burned. I could only cry while the mountain wind took her ashes and spread them over the mountaintops.

My father was desperate and decided to bring me, the youngest child, to a monastery high in the mountains. I grew up there and when I became twenty I decided to move to Kathmandu, where I work as a guide for a tourist office which offers hiking trips.”

“Did you ever want to become a monk in the monastery?”

“No, Lama Lobsang has always told me that my mission in life lay outside the monastery.”

“What is your mission in life then?” Christine asks curiously.

“Lama Lobsang told me about it once. My life element is water, which has something to do with making connections between people. So my mission in life has something to do with that.”

I stare into the fire. Growing up in a quiet Buddhist monastery is a lotdifferent than growing up in noisy Amsterdam, with a father who frequently hit you hard. I still vividly recall that after I’d been a bad 6- year-old, I would wait for my dad to come home from work. To protect myself I would put newspapers in my underwear. My father was a passionate yet dominate man. He would show his frustration in a harsh way to me and my brother and sisters. When he became angry, he became a different man. I actually thought he was possessed by the devil when he unleashed his fury on us.

My father is a man with two faces: charming and kind to others, but also brutal and unpredictable to his own children. Luckily, I had a loving mother, but she could not stand up to my father’s dominance. His will was the law in our house, and if you didn’t obey him, you suffered the consequences. For I long time I’ve been blocking out my childhood memories, as if they no longer exist. Yet here high in the Himalayas, the box of memories slowly opens. I sense that this will be an important journey.

“The old, isolated monastery where I grew up has a secret knowledge,” says Tenzing. “The monks have been studying the human mind for centuries, trying to figure out the secret. And that’s no coincidence. The monastery is situated on the Silk Route between China and the West. In Ancient times it was a place where traders came. The monks have been in contact with both Western and Chinese culture for centuries. They used valuable elements from both cultures in their studies of the power that humans possess. This created a unique, secret knowledge, which makes people stronger and more energetic than ever before. They found the strength that comes from within. The monks call this secret teaching “Qi”.

Tenzing has my full interest now. After the last two miserable years, I strongly desire for inner peace, energy and spiritual power.

“That monastery, I’d love to visit it.”

The words were out before I knew it. It seems that there is a higher power at work Which is putting words in my mouth.

“I can imagine that,” says Tenzing, as he looks at me. “I have been observing you over the last two days and I am convinced that a stay of several weeks in the monastery will do you good.”

I shake my head.

“We have no time for a long visit to the monastery. In four days we will fly back to Amsterdam. I trade in shares in the dealing room, and I certainly can’t stay away from the bank any longer.

“Suit yourself.”

We all sit quietly. I stare into the flames while Tenzing’s words are still going through my head.

“Why do you say I need a few weeks at the monastery?” I ask Tenzing.

“There are several reasons. The monastery is located high in the mountains. You can stay there a few weeks and learn something about Qi. The experience from living between these monks for a while will change your life forever. Besides, I haven’t been to the monastery for over thirty five years. It’s time that I pay them a visit.”

“I really can’t just stay away from my job any longer,” Christine says resolutely. “My agenda is already crowded with appointments in the next few weeks.”

I nod. Christine is absolutely right. The idea of spending a few weeks in the monastery is crazy. The stock market will go on, and I still have a lot of losses to make up for.

Nevertheless, the idea of staying at the monastery fills my thoughts. I keep saying to myself that I can’t. The bank will definitely fire me if I don’t show up on Monday. And I can’t just change my flight. It’s already been confirmed and leaves at a certain time. The rice wine makes me sleepy so I gently poke Christine as a signal to go to sleep. It works. We get up and wish Tenzing a good night. Before we walk into the barn, we stop for a moment and look at the stars together. Millions of stars sparkle in a blanket that covers the Himalayas. The view of the stars is breathtaking. I’ve never seen so many stars and they seem to be closer than I have ever seen before. This is exactly what makes the Himalayas so special. I feel radiated with sense happiness and love coursing through my body, making me light-headed.

I crawl into Christine’s sleeping bag with her, and despite t sore muscles, tiredness and a dirty barn, the passion overcomes everything and we make love. I can’t remember the last time we made love so intensely. Afterwards, we lie in each other’s arms, staring at the ceiling. It’s quiet and peaceful here in the mountains. How different from our apartment at home! There is not any sounds of cars honking or the noises of the Amsterdam trams rushing by.

“Maybe you should do it anyway,” suggests Christine.

“Do what?”

“For a while, live at the monastery.”

“But what about you?”

“I don’t need it as much as you do. Next week my schedule is already packed with interviews and other appointments. I can manage on my own in Amsterdam.”

“What about my job?”

“Just resign. We have enough money to get through a few years without any problems.”

Christine sits up straight.

“I’m really worried about your health, Peter. How long do you think you can keep this up for? The stress is pouring out your ears and you are on your way to a second burnout. You can’t keep taking these sleeping pills for the rest of your life.”

I don’t say anything, but I know she’s right. If I keep going this way, I’ll have a heart attack or a new burnout within a few years. But I have a hard time saying goodbye to my status and the money that comes with it. It feels like losing.

“I’ll think about it tonight.”

I crawl into my own sleeping bag and take my sleeping pills with a sip of water. For the first time in ages, one sleeping pill is enough. I’m not sure if it’s because of the heavy physical activity of the day or because of the environment, but I sleep peacefully through the night.

The next morning I have made my decision. My ego encourages me to go back to the Netherlands. However, the adventures of the Buddhist monastery strips away my ego. I desperately want to learn the secret teachings of the monks which in turn could lead me a more energetic yet peaceful life. What unknown force is hidden within me? When I get up, I share my thoughts with Christine.

“Congratulations,” she says as she gives me a kiss. “I’ll manage until you’re back. Your health is more important.”

During breakfast, I tell Tenzing about my decision. He says nothing but nods with a broad smile. For him this is his chance to get back to the place of his youth. After breakfast we hoist our backpacks on our shoulders and follow Tenzing. In the distance I can see the Himalayan giants towering high above the trees. The white peaks are in sharp contrast against the blue sky. The giants with their majestic beauty impress me. This is definitely a special place on earth. The energy is much different today. The prospect of spending time at a mysterious Buddhist monastery gives me hope, optimism and a newfound energy. But walking with the heavy backpack makes that energy disappear quickly. My muscles are begging me to stop. Red-faced and puffing, I stumble on while I try to keep up with Tenzing, who has no problems with the steep trail.

Christine is quiet this morning. Apparently she‘s not the only one tired from walking. Perhaps she’s also reluctant about going home by herself. We’d known each other for almost ten years before we got married five years ago. The first few years of our marriage were the best of my life. Those years made up for my sad and hard childhood, and everything was running smoothly until three years ago, when I was promoted to team manager of the U.S. stock market. We opened a bottle of champagne to celebrate. Each banker knew that big money would be coming in. Financial independence was finally coming. However, reality is rarely what it seems. The pressure and stress that this job entails were enormous, which tore down my health and brought back memories from the past. Memories of my dominating father were resurfacing. It was something I had never come to terms with it, and the memory of an abusive father was rearing its ugly head into my daily thoughts. The head-in-the-sand approach, which used to be so successful, didn’t work anymore. A black cloud of depression took a hold of me, and I worked even harder to try and avoid those feelings. It hit me so hard that it eventually took over my health and my relationship with Christine. We already didn’t have much time to spare with our busy careers, and slowly we grew apart, each caught up in our own little world. It’s funny how clear life seems when you are up in the Himalayas. The day went on without any significant events. In the afternoon we start the journey towards Sanga, where the jeep is waiting for us. The silence is everywhere in the Himalayas. We patiently follow Tenzing who leads us towards our destination.

That night we sleep in a small house that‘s supposed to be a hotel. A self- painted sign above the door reads “Mountain View Hotel.” The mountain view part is true, but I wouldn’t use the word hotel. The mattresses are made of straw and our room only has cold water.

“I long for a nice hot shower,” Christine sighs.

“Tomorrow we’ll be back at hotel Narayani,” I say to her hopefully.

We eat our vegetable curry and because we are so tired, we are in bed at nine. Even on the hard straw-filled mattresses I only need one sleeping pill. Hopefully this is a sign that I’m healing. I drift off into a peaceful sleep.

The next day we walk for three hours until we reach the jeep. As we walk it starts to rain, so we pull out our ponchos and put them on. The path is slippery and we really have to watch where we are going to avoid slipping. This is not at all like the rain that I’m used to back in the Netherlands. On the contrary, the heavens really open up in the Himalayas. The raindrops don’t just fall; they clatter hard on the rocky earth, and within minutes the trail becomes a mountain stream. We take shelter under a tree, but as quickly as the storm came, it disappears again. Not much later the sun comes back out through the clouds. We continue our journey while carefully watching our steps so we don’t slip. Soaked, we trudge behind Tenzing, who seems oblivious to the slippery trails. While walking, my thoughts once again return to work and I worry about how I'm going to tell Rick that I won’t be returning for another few weeks. He will surely demand that I immediately return to Amsterdam so he can then fire me. The stock markets keep going day and night and don’t do holidays. Though I dread it, I have to deal with it.

I'm still soaking wet when we arrive at the jeep. Christine is shivering beside me and looks angry. She slipped a few times, and got a little hurt. As fun as the walk began, it ended so miserably.
The backpack slides off my aching shoulder and I put it in the trunk. At a slow speed we’re driving the jeep on the slippery road towards Hotel Narayani. After hours of driving, we arrive back at the busy streets of the outskirts of Kathmandu.
At the hotel, Tenzing drops us and off tells us that he will be back tomorrow at nine o’clock to pick us up. We walk to the reception desk and check-in. This time we get a more luxurious room. There's even a bath! Christine takes her damp clothes off and takes a bath.

Then it’s time for something that I’ve been dreading all day. With my heart beating loudly in my ears, I pick up the phone on the small desk and ask the receptionist to make an international call. Because of the time difference, Rick is just beginning his work when I ring him.

“Rick, it’s Peter.”

“Good morning. Say, how is your vacation?”

“Very good, but I’ll be away for a little longer.”

“Excuse me?”

“I would like to extend my holiday for a couple of weeks,” I repeat. There’s a bad connection.

“Why?”

“In order to find myself in a Buddhist monastery.”

“I don’t think you should,” Rick answered with an angry undertone to his voice. “It’s all hands on deck here. You can’t let us down.”

“But I still want the few extra weeks of vacation.”

“Maybe I’m not being clear enough,” hisses Rick. “If you are not here at work on Monday, you have a serious problem. Your portfolio is incurring a lot of losses, Peter. I really can’t accept that you want to stay there longer. In fact, I won’t allow it and I’ll fire you. I hope that’s clear enough for you.”

There is a moment of silence. This is a decisive moment. As bizarre as it sounds, the following response will determine my future.

“Sorry, but I’ll be staying in Nepal for a few more weeks.”

I say the words very clearly, though I still need to convince myself. The verdict is made and my banking career is over. Without saying anything else, Rick hangs up the phone. I just sit there with the phone in my hand. I’ve just lost my job. That’s obvious.

Slowly I come to my senses. What have I done? How does this go on?

“And?” I hear Christine ask from the bathroom.

“If I don’t come to the Netherlands, I’m fired.”

Christine climbs out of the bath and wraps a towel around her, then sits next to me.

"We'll be fine, honey. I have a good income and we have enough savings. "

"Christine, my problem is not directly financial. I was an investment banker in the dealing room and now I'm unemployed. Do you understand my point? "

"You cannot go on like this, Peter. That bank has become your demon. What's more important to you, status or health? "
The choice seems so simple, but why does it feel so difficult? I know that Christine is right. It’s important that I get myself back on track. I’ll get a new job eventually.

"Let's go get some good food," Christine says as she’s getting dressed.

We enjoy a good meal at a nice restaurant. The atmosphere is warm and loving. The burden of the bank is still on my shoulders, yet oddly enough I never knew that my work had weighed me down so much.
I stroke Christine's hand. The trail we walked together has done wonders for us. We know we won’t be seeing each other for a while. In fact, this will be the first time in fifteen years that we won’t be together for more than a few days. Christine will stay here a couple more days at the hotel and relax by the pool before she flies back to the Netherlands.
However, my life’s journey will just be starting.. We agree that Christine will change my return ticket at the airport to an unknown date. Around eleven o’clock we crawl into bed, and after making love again, we fall asleep in each other’s arms. This holiday is turning out to be an excellent medicine for our troubled relationship.

Money and Happiness

At half past seven in the morning, I kiss Christine awake.

"Good morning," she says cheerfully.

"Listen, I fell asleep without a sleeping pill."

"Apparently you are on the right track to recovery," says Christine while stretching her muscles.
We get dressed and go downstairs for a hearty breakfast. We order coffee from a waiter dressed as a penguin.

"This is our last breakfast together for a while.”
Christine doesn’t answer.

"Is something wrong?"

"I'll miss you," she says.

"Maybe I’ll come back a different man."

"Oh, I hope you find peace, but I also want you to remain the Peter I know.”

After breakfast I get my backpack from the room and press myself firmly against Christine.

"You’ll manage, right?"
She nods bravely, but I see tears welling in her eyes. Lovingly, I stroke a piece of hair away from her face.

"Take good care of yourself," she whispers.

In the lobby of the hotel, I look around for Tenzing, who is standing off to the side, waiting patiently for me. He is dressed in a beige wool sweater, black trousers an old worn-out boots. He gives me a broad smile, showing off his brown teeth.

"Good morning," he says. "It's time to leave." He starts walking towards the jeep.
I give Christine a kiss, then dash towards the jeep. I throw my backpack in the back of the jeep, and sit down next to Tenzing. After honking the horn, the blue jeep drives off. I wave through the window at Christine.

"Our first destination is Pokhara," Tenzin shouts over the noise of the engine. "Here we’ll do some last minute shopping. After lunch we’ll travel to the town of Hyangja. There we will leave the car behind and then we begin the journey to the monastery. "
I nod excitedly.

It’s a beautiful, cloudless day and I look forward to the hike through the cool mountains. We drive out of town and it soon becomes quiet on the road. Here and there I spot farmers working the land. The farmers work with hand tools and the land is still treated with love. In the distance a black ox is steadily pulling a plow over the field. The farmer walks behind him with his whip in hand. Fields of beautiful yellow flowers surround the cultivated fields. Down in the valley is the Indrawati River, which looks like a snake making its way through the green fields. In the distance I see the high Himalayan giants with their white peaks reaching up into the sky. This is a place where happiness is for the taking.

After leaving the Kathmandu Valley, the road moves up slightly. The road to Pokhara is easily accessible and the views are breathtaking. If God decides to dwell on Earth, he’d live in the Himalayas and build a home here, I think. Tenzing doesn’t say much. Occasionally he taps me on the shoulder and points to a beautiful view or a distant temple. While I’m shaking back and forth in the jeep, I think of Christine and hope she will manage without me. Although I miss her already, the feeling of curiosity for the monastery dominates.

After an hour we reach the real mountains. The jeep occasionally has trouble with the steep road, and I see a look on Tenzing’s face that says he has to concentrate hard to avoid all the pits and holes. Luckily it’s quiet on the road as we drive to a small village.

"This is the place where Naublise and the Sherpas live," says Tenzing, as he slowly drives through the village. "They are often used as porters on mountain expeditions."
I see an old woman bending forward as she carries a huge pile of branches on her back.

"That seems really hard for the old woman," I say.

"That's not so bad. The Sherpas are strong mountain people. From childhood on they are trained to carry baskets on their backs through the mountains, especially the women in the village since they do this type of heavy work. Their walking pace is slow, but they are able to keep this up for hours."

"Can I take a picture?"

Tenzing stops the car. I get out with my camera already in my hand. As if they smell it, some of the Sherpa woman stop and come towards me with their hands held up.

"Money! Money, sir, please,” they say in broken English. I pretend that I don’t understand them and continue taking pictures.

I quickly step back in the jeep without a word spoken to the begging women. It’s strange that even in the Himalayas, "money" is the first word people yell at you. What would these people actually do here with money? Then a bigger thought occurs to me: why does money play such an important role in everyone’s lives? People say they want happiness but then go hunting for money. Money doesn’t always equal happiness. I’m aware that I’m also guilty of being guided by the greed of more money, yet it’s bizarre to me that entire tribes can chase after the wrong goal.
We return to the jeep and drive away from the village. Sherpa children run behind our car as fast as they can, shouting after us. This is a game to them. Children are more motivated by fun and games. They become happy without having to chase it.

The beautiful views overthrow my philosophical thoughts. We are getting higher and higher into the mountains, and at one point we even come above the tree line. The environment starts to change and bare rocks, grass and low bushes appear. We pass up a small farming village. The community consists of small and white poor houses, with chickens and other animals scurrying around. I look around but can’t find any residents. The road conditions are getting worse; the recent rains haven’t been kind to these roads at all. The jeep makes creaking sounds as Tenzing tries to avoid all the holes. We continue to drive on for miles and miles, shaking back and forth, but slowly trudging up the mountain. Occasionally, I take a sip from my water bottle. I'm on my way to the end of the world, or at least that’s how it feels .

It's almost one o’clock when we arrive in Pokhara, a slightly larger village. On the main street we see some people from an expedition loading a bus full of supplies and climbing equipment. Tenzing shows me a small and colorfully painted restaurant.

"If you go there for lunch, I will do the shopping for our trip. I’ll pick you up there again in two hours. "
I walk to the appointed restaurant and sit down at a table with a window view. I order a Coca-Cola and hot rice with chicken. Pokhara is a vibrant town for travelers, and I notice that there are several backpackers here. In the distance I make out a small temple, and a man painted in white sitting in front of it. He remains as still as a statue, holding a crooked stick in his hand. As I look at him, he intrigues me in a way that I can’t explain. How does this man get food and shelter? Has this man seen the light? Does he really sit in front of the temple all day? There are so many questions I have, yet few answers.

Tenzing walks into the restaurant a few hours later. He is carrying a backpack stuffed with a rolled-up tent on his shoulder. I get the sense that it’s time for the final journey to Hyangja where our trail begins.
We leave Pokhara. The road is steep and bumpy and the jeep is having trouble holding speed. After a sharp bend, I see a group of women working on the land.

"Almost nothing will grow at this altitude," shouts Tenzing above the noise of the engine. "Only a special type of tea. These women are busy plucking the tea leaves."
A woman with sun spots and the deep wrinkles created by hard work looks up at the jeep while taking a drag of a homemade cigarette.

An hour later, Tenzing parks his jeep in the village center of Hyangja. We get out and again the villagers stare at me from a distance. We put on our backpacks and walk into the village. We are accompanied by three noisy children who start begging for a pen. I take three pens out of my backpack and give these to the children. Happy with their treasures, they run into a small, whitewashed cottage in the village. At the end of the main road we turn right and start walking down a narrow mountain path with a steep incline. My thigh muscles start to stiffen, and although we’ve just begun our trip, I pray that there won’t be anymore tough hikes.

The Journey to the Monastery

It’s an extraordinary experience to listen to deafening silence. For years I’ve yearned for it. This sort of silence reigns over the Himalayas, and it doesn’t cost you anything.
We are an hour into our journey and there is no one to be seen for miles and miles. I feel an unprecedented sense of freedom. Here I am alone with nature and with God, if one exists. In the distance, I can see the snowy giants of the Himalayas. Annapurna is towering above them all. My feelings of happiness and freedom are gradually pushed aside by the emerging fatigue. I’m out of breath, and because of the height, the long climb and my lack of fitness, I’m now panting like a wild horse on the loose. Yet, I keep plugging away, taking it one step at a time. My lack of fitness slowly begins to take over my body. I hardly have enough energy to make another step with my heavy backpack on. It's as if my thighs are made of paper rather than muscle. How long can I keep this up?

Tenzing is a brisk fifty meters ahead of me and turns around once in a while. His characteristic light steps drive me into despair. Tenzing sets the pace and I’m attempting to follow him, but my lungs are on fire and I have to stop to catch my breath every few meters. The straps of the backpack on my shoulders are too tight and I feel exhausted.

"Shit, what have I gotten myself into?"
During a brief stop, I look up and to my absolute horror see that the steepness of the path is ever growing. Then something snapped inside of me and I take a much needed rest on a loose rock. My chest is heaving up and down. I'm totally done with this. Did I really give up my job for this?
Tenzing finally realizes that I no longer following him and he approaches me in a dancing and light manner. When he’s at my side, he takes of his backpack and he kneels beside me. Suddenly he presses his thumb into my abdomen, just below my navel.

"Feel this?" asks Tenzing before I can say anything.

“Yes ... uh ... "

"There you’ll find your Qi-point. This point is your inner power point and the point of your life energy. The Qi-point is connected to an infinite source of energy in the universe. If you control that Qi-point, you can easily climb five of these mountains. "
I frown and look at him. “ I don’t understand. I’ve never heard of a Qi-point.”

"The Qi-point controls the amount of energy you have available."

"I do not believe that," I say with a bit of defiance.

"You do not have to believe it, but you need to experience it," says Tenzing. "People have forgotten that we are energy beings. The Qi-point determines the amount of energy you have available. I'm going to teach you breathe from your Qi-point. Imagine that you are breathing from your Qi-point. Inhaling and exhaling. "
I try to take deeper breaths and suddenly I realize that I’m hyperventilating. My rapid breathing is not much deeper than the top of my chest. Tenzing keeps pressing his thumb in my stomach just under my navel. Slowly I relax and feel myself breathing more deeply. There is a sense of calmness, which apparently comes from within. Am I imagining this, or is there really a sense of relaxation? Either way, the energy starts to flow back into my body.
A few minutes later I’m able to get up and carry on. Tenzing takes the lead and I walk on behind him. Oddly, something has actually changed. To my surprise, I find that the climb is going easier than before. I never knew that I had a Qi-point.

I slip a few times on the loose rocks on the trail. Sometimes you can’t even see the path anymore because of all of the rocks. I concentrate on my Qi-point. Walking is still difficult, but I can at least keep up this time.
I look over at a deep valley. From here the world looks so different. I haven’t seen mountains like this in person before. I knew about them from the pictures you find in encyclopedias or the heavy leather-bound books in our bookcases at home. The pictures of the mountains are always crushed into flat two-dimensional images. But here, viewing them in person is making me dizzy. The depth and the distances between the mountains seem unreal. We take a break, and Tenzing tells me a story about the monestary. There is an ancient secret teaching stored in the monastery, allowing you to get more strength and energy out of your life. This is exactly what I’m in search of and despite the fatigue I listen intently to his story.
"After my father brought me to the monastery, I was raised by the monks. I lived up high in the Himalayas, which was a sobering and hard life. I can still vividly remember the cold winter months.
There were weeks when I could barely warm myself up and when I wanted to wash myself, I needed to make a hole in the ice of the water reservoir. Life was hard, but it also made me mentally strong.
Every day we were up at 5:30 in the morning. After a long meditation we had breakfast. In the morning the monks would teach me stuff. They did not just teach me how to read and write. Their teachings went much further than that. They taught me the power of Qi. Qi is your birth power that so many people have forgotten about."
I listened quietly., hoping to learn as much about Qi as possible.

"Every afternoon I had to do chores, like weeding the garden or chopping wood for the fireplace.

"While the monks were caring, I missed the warmth of my mother a lot. In the dorm where I had my bed of straw, it was dark, cold and lonely. I slept there with the other kids, but I was lonely and unhappy. More than once I fell asleep crying. Sometimes my mother appeared in my dreams. She took me in her arms to comfort me. She seemed so real when I was dreaming. In my opinion she was with me there in the monastery. Over the years, the realization dawned on me that my mother visited me from another dimension. Through this mystical experience I know that after death, life does still go on. There is a dimension where the souls of deceased people live. From that dimension, they can contact us. "

I nod approvingly..

"Your story sounds to me as if it were a lonely childhood."

"It wasn’t that bad," says Tenzing with a smile. "Once a month my father came to pick me up for a long weekend at home, which I spent with my brother and sister. I was free and I could play whenever I wanted to. The moments at home were the happiest moments of my childhood. I cherish those memories in my heart.”

Tenzing gets up for the next part of our journey, and I begrudgingly follow him. I lift the heavy backpack over my sore shoulders. "Why do people always take so much with them?” I ask myself. In a slow but steady pace I follow Tenzing from a distance. Concentrating on my Qi breathing, I try not to think about my sore shoulders and aching feet. Unfortunately, I just can’t seem to get back into that state of peace and relaxation. My breath quickens again. While panting I try to keep up with Tenzing. Darn, why did I have to go do this? My life wasn’t so bad at the bank. With the generous income I could afford anything that I desired. However, there’s no turning back now, so I resign to my fate and keep going.

We climb for another hour, and I feel like I can’t go on anymore. My legs are throbbing and feel like mush. Each step hurts, and I feel a stabbing sensation in my side that’s telling me I’ve went beyond my physical limit. Tenzing runs at a steady pace in front of me and doesn’t seem to notice my troubles. In fact, he doesn’t even bother to look back at me, which irritates me to no end.
The backpack seems heavier with each step. Why on earth did I bring all of this stuff with me? I pull myself together and try to focus on breathing from my Qi point. It helps somewhat, but I can’t hold my concentration for long. My head is pounding from the exertion and my thoughts are all over the place.

Tenzing finally stops and points to a village in the distance. The low afternoon sun is blinding my eyes as 5 p.m. rolls around. Exhausted, I wonder how much one man can endure in a single day.

“This is Khare, where we’ll spend the night.”
Pfffff ... Finally! I start to feel relieved even though it looks like we will have to walk another hour just to get to the village. At least I can see the destination though, and with a goal in mind, I feel a renewed energy and take a sip of water, preparing myself.

At 6:15 p.m. we arrive at the village. I feel more dead than alive, but at least we made it. Dusk is just starting to settle over the village, and I immediately smell food with a deliciously sweet scent permeating from one of the houses.

"I was born there," says Tenzing, pointing to a brick house a little further down the road. Although he’s been dragging a tent with him on top of his backpack the entire trip, his wiry body doesn’t show any signs of fatigue. How many people his age back in the Netherlands could do the same?

There’s an old man is sitting on a bench in front of a house while smoking a pipe. He jumps up alarmed when we speak to him.

"Tenzing," he shouts in surprise.

"Thaka!
Tenzing takes of his backpack and the two men embrace. For several minutes they hold each other tightly and slap each other on the back. Apparently they’ve not seen each other in a long time. Tenzing beckons me and introduces me to his brother, while curious inhabitants emerge from the other houses in the village. Western tourists are apparently rare around here. I’m invited in for a cup of tea, so I put my backpack down beside the door and walk into Thaka’s home.

The house is dark and the decor is sobering to say the least. The inner walls are sealed shut with brown clay. There is cow skin on the floor, and an old oil lamp hanging in the corner of the house over a wooden table. A withered and pale grey curtain partially hides a thin mattress made of straw. A brown wool blanket drapes across the bed. A small wood fire exhumes heat from the middle of the room while a large black kettle of water boils away.
I take a seat by the fire and say thanks when Thaka hands me a cup of tea and a piece of plain grain cake. The hot tea relaxes me, but I can hardly move my shoulders without flinching in pain. Yet I feel a sense of pride for what I accomplished today. As I daydream over my progress, Thaka and Tenzing start talking in an unfamiliar language. Occasionally Tenzing translates something for me, and it seems as though the two brothers are catching up on all those years apart. Thaka continued working on his father’s farm, and still lives in the family home.. He married once but has no children. His wife passed away suddenly ten years ago, and he has lived alone ever since. Their only sister is married with three children, and lives a few villages away in a community called Mhare. Bit by bit I learn more about Tenzing’s family.

After the second cup of tea, I start feeling better and ask Tenzing where I can freshen up. There is no place in the house where I can do that, but Thaka points me to a mountain stream a little further down the road. I nod and smile kindly at the man, but deep inside I curse the savagery that’s so apparent in this village. After such an exhausting day, I would give all the money I have just for a nice hot bath.
I gather up my toiletries from my backpack and stumble towards the mountain stream. One by one I pull off my tight climbing shoes. I notice a huge blood red blister protruding off of my left foot, and worry about the walk to the monastery.

I sit down on a boulder and ease my aching feet into the cold mountain water. I close my eyes and enjoy the icy feeling tingling my feet. I relax and take in the silence that surrounds me As I stare into the distance, fatigue engulfs my entire body to the point where I can’t muster up enough energy to move. I rest a few more minutes before pulling myself together and heading back to the house. I return to Thaka cooking a meal. Cauliflower, rice and potatoes simmer in a large black pot, and Thaka motions for me to join him and Tenzing at the table. Within a blink of an eye, a plate with steaming stew is in front of me, so I silently enjoy the food while the two brothers talk to each other. Obviously they have a wonderful relationship, and I’m glad to be left alone in my thoughts.

After dinner, the three of us lounge around a campfire. The brothers seems to talking about their past, given their gestures and facial expressions. I'm too tired to ask any questions though, so I stretch myself as a gesture to say good-night.
I take the mattress out of my backpack, inflate and set it up in a spot in the corner of a room. As I crawl into my sleeping bag, I hear the brothers laughing and whispering by the fire. I'm too exhausted to get my sleeping pills, and within minutes I am sound asleep. The mountain air and the heavy physical exertion did me in. Sleeping pills are unnecessary.

The next morning I wake up at dawn. I can’t move without feeling excruciating pain in my shoulders and back. I curse at my body. How do I get through this day? So I give in to just lying there for at least half an hour while staring at the roof. I notice small openings here and there in the roof, allowing speckles of the blue sky to pour in. This house is as leaky as it can be. My thoughts turn to Christine. How is she doing? I miss her more than I had could have ever expected. Finally, the door of the house opens and I hear a scratching noise outside.
Thaka is probably gathering fresh eggs for breakfast.

I have to convince myself that I can sit up straight. I open the zipper of my sleeping bag, and look at my feet. The blood blister is the size of a coin now. Tenzing walks into the house with a basket of fresh eggs and wishes me good morning. I get dressed and stagger out of the house towards the mountain stream. As I I look around, the beautiful scenery brings a smile to my face. Three village children spot me and start to follow. They start walking with me while running and screaming. When we arrive to the creek, they stand and curiously watch me. They giggle when I take my shirt off to wash my armpits and chest with soap. My body hasn’t seen the sun in the last year, so it’s as white as a milk bottle. I make a silly face at the children who run away laughing. Feeling refreshed from the cold water, I head back towards the house. When I get back, I see that Thaka has put a mug of, a fresh egg and and some kind of lentil soup on the table. The lentil soup tastes wonderful. After breakfast I gather up my belongings and notice it’s 8:15 a.m. We bid our farewells to Thaka, hoist our backpacks, and get ready to depart. My shoulders are throbbing, but I’m excited to see what the next part of the journey will. I take a quick look at my watch again and see it’s already 8:45 a.m. With that, we begin our journey.

The day starts with only a slight descent down the road, and I and secretly hope it will stay relaxed all day. I say a little prayer to the higher powers asking that the day stay light, but unfortunately that doesn’t happen. After half an hour we turn onto a mountain path that seems to just keep going straight up. I’m still trying to recover from yesterday, and this path looks like a path of destruction to me. Running out of breath, I stop every few yards, panting. I try to ignore my left foot, but that mean blood blister is stinging. This is really terrible! Where have I gotten myself into? Into the distance a suspension bridge made of thick rope is hanging over a deep ravine. I start to shake as I realize we’ll have to cross the wobbly bridge with our heavy luggage in tow. Terror takes ahold of me as soon as we get to the edge of the ravine. If we happen to fall from this bridge, we’ll both be dead, no doubt about it.

I feel my heart pounding in my throat as I carefully shuffle forward on wobbly wires. I make the first steps successfully, the bridge is bending dangerously downwards by my weight. I hold my breath, and although I don’t frighten easily, I must admit I’m pretty scared right now. If I fall, I am falling hundreds of meters down. I shuffle as carefully as I can across the bridge while trying to keep it stable. Relief pours through when I finally reach the other side unscathed. We walk for three hours straight until Tenzing stops for lunch. My foot hurts a lot and I keep trying to breath from my Qi-point. I keep that up the entire trip. It now only strikes me that the environment here is beautiful. This is another piece of the world where people come only occasionally, and where nature reigns. Tenzing is sitting on a boulder and I am glad that I can take off the tight backpack. Thaka has given us bread and fruit. The sun is shining bright and I am too tired to talk much. After lunch Tenzing takes the lotus position and goes to meditate. I go and sit down on the floor against my backpack and I doze off. The hard time I had falling asleep at home, now it is so easy, here in the mountains.

"Wake up."
It's Tenzing, who gently awakens me. I look at my watch, and I’m surprised I actually slept for on hour in the bright daylight without a sleeping pill.

The nap has helped quite a bit, and I feel some of my energy restored. Sighing, I get up for the last climb to the monastery. We walk for hours, stopping only for small breaks. The sun shines brightly on my head, my shirt is soaked with perspiration and my feet are producing a nagging pain. I can tell from my rapid breathing that we are at a high altitude. In order to suppress my fatigue, I try to resist my thoughts. It’s a pity that Christine is not there. She is sporty and this adventure is certainly right up her alley.

The closer we get to the monastery, the more curious I become. What big secrets do the monks have to hide there? Every human holds an unknown power and energy in themselves, but how do you access it? Questions and more questions haunt my mind until we come to a sudden stop by a a large quiet mountain stream with running water.

"Do we need to get through that?" I ask on a sulky tone, wondering how I can keep my feet from getting wet.

Tenzing doesn’t answer me, but instead starts to cross the stream while still wearing his boots. I reluctantly follow his example. We're knee-deep in the icy mountain water, carefully limping from one rock to the next.

Once we across the stream, I take off my wet shoes. The blister has opened and leaves a bloody raw wound. I grab the first-aid kit out of my backpack and wrap a big bandage around my wounded foot. I squeeze the water out of my socks, then put my wet shoes back on. My mood is as cold as the freezing water. We put our backpacks back on, and saunter up a steep clip that I keep slipping on I’m cursing everything around me even though we are taking breaks every five meters. Dusk begins to fall when we see the white monastery looming in the distance. The monastery is situated on a barren plateau, and even from afar it looks impressive. Right there, in that exact place, is a big secret stored away from the hectic world where I come from. The monastery has a vast, unspeakable serenity; it is in stark contrast to the chaotic streets of Kathmandu.

It’s a square building with sloping roofs covered with slate. The roof resembles a bit of a Japanese temple. In front of the building, twenty flag poles with white flags attached blow in the breeze. White prayer flags sit atop the roof. With the sun starting to set, the monastery takes on a beautiful red tone. My bad mood is instantly gone. This beautiful picture will stay with me for the rest of my life. Every fiber of my being tells me that this will be a special time. I can’t pull my eyes away, and continue to stare at the monastery, trying to take it in completely. My cure is within reach and with renewed energy, I proudly walk the last mile to the monastery.

Meeting Phurba-lama

Before we reach the monastery, Tenzing turns around to face me.

"Listen, the Buddhist monks live in a monastic community, which is called Sangha. You need to show the monks great respect. You cannot touch them and you can only greet them by giving a wai."
I frown at Tenzing.

"When greeting with a wai, keep your hands together in front of your face and give the monk a respectful bow."
Tenzing shows me how it’s done.

"It is customary for the monks to not greet you back."

After the short lesson on proper greetings, we walk up to a sturdy, red wooden door. Tenzing knocks at the door, but there is no reaction. After a few minutes he knocks again and waits patiently. After several minutes, which seem more like ages to me, we hear someone on the other side of the door fumbling at the lock. An old Buddhist monk in a dark robe looks at us in surprise. He has bright eyes and a face that has been formed by the elements. Tenzing greets him with a wai and tells the monk that he grew up in the monastery, and that we would like to stay there for a while. I also make a greeting wai.
The monk hesitates, but then gives a brief nod for us to follow him.
The old monk doesn’t say a word, and leads us through a beautifully carved wooden cloister that winds around a square courtyard. Beside the door that we came in are two wooden planks thirty bowls ready for use. I look around me and let the serenity that hangs around this place overwhelm me. There was no one to be seen or heard. There is a subdued atmosphere in the monastery. Almost automatically I am forced to listen to the prevailing silence. Silence is like a blank page, which is patiently waiting for the right words to fill it. But the words do not come to me. My soul waits as a lonely voice in the wilderness to be heard. In this silence I can truly listen to my soul, but do I really want to do that? Am I ready to face myself?

We stop at a small bedchamber and the monk gestures that I can go inside. Unsure, I do what is expected of me. The monk has still not said a word. When I walk inside the bedchamber, I can hear Tenzing speaking with the monk in a soft voice in the corridor. Tenzing then comes into the room and tells me that I can freshen up now. Even though I am welcome at the monastery, I honestly don’t feel that way yet.

"Is this my room?"

"Yes, for as long as you stay here."

Quickly I look around the room and nod at Tenzing.

"Is there any way that I can connect with Christine?" I ask him.

"Negative. Any contact with the outside world is forbidden. Go and unload your backpack. I'll get you in about forty-five minutes for a meeting with the lama of the monastery. "

Tenzing leaves me alone. I sigh and I look around a bit more carefully now.
The cold room has thick walls, and is lit by a faint burning oil lamp. The room is narrow and has a high ceiling. There is a bed, a wooden chair and a large tub of water for washing. A prayer table sits beside the oil lamp in a corner with a small, golden Buddha statue and burning incense sticks. The sweet smell of incense fills the room. Next door is a niche in the wall where I can put my clothing. This is nothing like the luxury that I'm used to.

I lay my backpack next to the bed and go sit down on the chair so I can pull off my boots. A heavy sweaty air displaces the sweet incense smell. The blood blister on my foot has turned into a bigger flesh wound, so I disinfect it and wrap a fresh bandage around it. I’m so exhausted that I stumble towards the bed and fall down on it. The thin mattress is stuffed with straw and feels hard and uncomfortable. Self-pity starts to rise in me as I realize I can pretty much say goodbye to a good night’s sleep. Everything hurts and there’s not a soul that I can complain to.
Sighing, I close my eyes. What am I doing? Is this monastery a step too far for me? Insecurity and doubt fill my head as I lay on the uncomfortable mattress. I feel my head starting to throb from the self-induced stress, and notice that the flickering oil lamp on the wall creates black shadows dancing in the room. It feels like I’m playing with own my dark mind.
I sit up straight. Why am I laying here in self- pity? This is supposed to be a special time! I lay back down, close my eyes and feel the throbbing pain in my head resurface.

I keep laying there for a while until I look at my watch and see that the forty-five minutes are up. It is time to go to an audience with the Lama. That isn’t something you would do every day.
I refresh myself with the water, put on clean clothes and make my wet boots as clean as I possibly can.
There is gentle knock on the door. When I open it, I see Tenzing’s grinning face.

"Are you ready?"
I nod and follow Tenzing through the dimly lit, chilly cloisters. There are no monks to be seen! It’s as if they are playing hide and seek with me. Tenzing opens a wooden door and we walk into a lighted hall. It turns out to be the dining hall of the convent. In one corner, the room is lit by a huge fire and there are large candles on the tables. The Lama is nowhere to be seen to my disappointment. In fact, there are still no monks at all here.

"The monks do not usually eat after 12 in the afternoon," says Tenzing, answering my questioning look. "As an exception, I have gotten us some bread and fresh vegetables for this evening. That will have to do."
Tenzing grabs two plates from a cupboard heads into the kitchen. A little later he puts the plates containing cold rice and bread on the table and we begin to eat in silence. The meager portion of food doesn’t taste that good and I cannot satisfy my hunger, it is not enough. Dutch prison compared to this monastery a four star hotel. Tenzing eats silently and focused while he empties his plate. I have no other choice than to follow his example. For me, there is only one conclusion: The monastery is absolutely not what I expected at all.

We both look up at the same time as the door squeaks open. An old monk with a friendly, open face is standing in the doorway. Tenzing gets up directly and respectfully greets the monk with a wai. Somewhat delayed, I follow his example. The monk looks me with a long and focused stare, but says nothing. It seems like he’s almost looking right through me, but he keeps a friendly smile. He then gives a subtle hand gesture that lets us know we can sit down again.
The old monk pushes a chair towards me , nods kindly and sits down. Who is this guy and why is he so weird? I start eating again out of uncertainty, without looking up once.
The monk still has not said anything, but I feel that he is observing me.
After ten minutes, a second, younger monk comes into the dining room. He too is, like the old monk, shaven bald and wearing a burgundy robe with a long wooden beads around his neck. The younger monk puts some extra logs on the fire and puts a large kettle of water over the burning fire. When the water boils, he puts three earthenware mugs on the table containing fresh tea leaves. Carefully, he pours hot water into the mugs. He greets the old monk and leaves the dining room again. To wash away the dry bread, I take a sip of tea, which has an unidentifiable bitter aftertaste to it.

The old monk still hasn’t said anything. He looks at me again and smiles. It starts to really irritate me. What does this man want and why doesn’t he say anything?
Then he gets up and kindly beckons us to come and sit on wooden stools by the fire. I feel warm sitting on the stool, and hold the mug of teas with both hands.

"Why are you here?" The monk asked suddenly.
I am scared out of my mind. The man talks! And to my surprise, he talks in an affective voice with perfectly intelligible English. The monk looks at me intently while Tenzing doesn’t say anything.

"Uh ... actually I'm trying to find myself," I reply.
The words sound stupid in my ears. It is like being on the sofa of a psychiatrist, and then to come to this conclusion after several sessions.
The old monk nods understandingly.

"My name is Phurba- lama and I was elected as successor to Lama Lobsang in this monastery. I am a reincarnation of a wise lama," says the old monk. The look in his eyes is filled with so much goodness that it warms my heart.

"You're a remarkable person," I tell him.

"I have no special talents. Maybe it's because I have meditated all my life with all my mental strength about love, compassion and Qi. "
I look respectful at the spiritual leader of the monastery.

"The monastery was built on a special place and has a rich history. It is one of the highest monasteries in the Himalayas. The original building was founded around the year 800 AD, and according to legend, two centuries later it was robbed and burned. The present monastery was built by Buddhist monks in the year 1654. "
I listen with interest as the old monk continues.

"Because this monastery is situated on the ancient silk trade route, the monks came in with both western and Chinese culture at an early stage. By combining the Eastern and Western knowledge and understanding, the monks have discovered how people can structurally increase their energy. This universal energy is called Qi and is the source of your inner strength. Knowledge about Qi has never left the walls of this monastery. All monks have a strong Qi-flow and know their inner strength. And that is quite different from the Western peace-seekers who often stay for a while. They show us that man's own contact with the Qi-flow is lost. They do not live powerful, energetic lives in the present. Their heads have taken over the role of their abdomens. The thinking has dominated the feeling. Many are caught up in the delusions of their minds. They worry about yesterday's problems and then worry about tomorrow. They have no idea that they possess a great inner power. They haven’t only lost the knowledge of this power, but also the contact with this power. Qi will be a solution for many people. Every man has every right to be spared from suffering and to be happy."

Phurba-lama stops talking. His last words echo in my head. My birth power! That's exactly what I'm looking for.

"You have come here for a reason," says Phurba-lama.

"What reason is that?"

"I won’t tell you just yet. But I will tell you a story:
The story is set in a small village somewhere high in the mountains. The people are poor and can barely stay alive in the harsh climate. In the village lives a Sherpa man who one day was in search of edible berries. Looking for anything edible, he sees something shining in a mountain stream. He investigates and finds gold. He becomes entranced and takes several pieces of gold with him. Now he's a rich man.

After much doubt he decides to hide his gold from the villagers. The next day he went to the big city and exchanges the pieces for food, beautiful clothes and money. He returns to his village, but he tells no one where he got his new clothes, jewelry and food. The secret of the gold he keeps for himself. It is does not long take long before the villagers become jealous. He was even excluded from the community. Despite the nice clothes and all the money, the man feels lonely and unhappy. In desperation the man decides to find the village elder to confess. The old wise man teaches him that true happiness lies in giving to others. This is the basis for friendship and spiritual growth.
The man is convinced and the next day, he takes several villagers to the stream.
By sharing the gold discovery, the village community as a whole grows. There is no longer hunger, and the children are getting educated. The man clearly sees that it was wrong to keep the gold to himself and rediscovers happiness. "

I stare into the fire enjoying the beautiful story. Phurba-lama stands up and speaks to me, "We are like beggars who do not know that there is a pot of gold coins hidden in charming places. You too are seeking the pot of gold coins."

"Uh ... Yes!”

"To receive, you must first learn to give," says Phurba-lama. "Tomorrow morning, after meditation and breakfast, there will be a bucket of water and a stiff brush for you. So you will go on your knees and scrub all the floors of the monastery."

"Scrubbing floors ...?'

"Well, yes."
Phurba-lama gives me a nod then leaves me behind. I’m perplexed. Once the monk leaves the dining room, Tenzing announces that he will leave early tomorrow morning and will be back later. Not him as well!

"When is later?" I ask Tenzing.

"When the time comes," he cryptically answers.

I’m very irritated. What is happening here? Tomorrow I have to scrub floors. Did I give up my job for this? If Rick knew that one of his best traders has given up his job to scrub floors in a Buddhist monastery, he’d be rolling on the floor with laughter. My God, I wish I had known this! Sighing, I leave the dining room. Back in my room I sit by the small window that overlooks the stars. Hundreds of millions of twinkling white lights shine in the black sky. It’s funny how my journey is now getting a different interpretation. A week holiday in Nepal turns into scrubbing floors in a Buddhist monastery. On the other hand, it feels like this is my final destination, and a destination that can only be revealed during the journey. My thoughts turn to Christine, and I get sad thinking about her. I miss her warmth dearly and would love to have her in my arms right now.

That night I lie in my bed tossing and turning. Even my sleeping pill doesn’t help against the hard mattress. The wound on my foot hurts terribly.
Where did I get into? The question keeps running through my mind. Tenzing is leaving tomorrow and I will be alone at the mercy of Phurba-lama. If he thinks he’s found good domestic help, he is wrong.

Maybe I can go back with Tenzing tomorrow morning, and maybe Ill be just in time to catch my flight to the Netherlands. I shake my head wearily. My thoughts are taking over again. Has this monastery come onto my path for a reason? After severe depression and years of unhappiness, I want nothing more than access to an infinite energy and power. I want to live again like I did before my period of depression. Where has my force gone? I want to feel strong and energetic again, no matter how much pressure and stress I experience in my life. I miss the feeling that tells you that you are in control of your own life. This monastery just has to be the key to new happiness. Deep down I know it exists somewhere within me. I ponder the balance of give and take in my own life. Has this balance grown a bit crooked? I’m blindly hunting for big money and I'm not really concerned about others. Under the excuse of important and demanding work, I did everything my own way. Rick once said it’s a “slaughter yourself or be slaughtered world.” I would always agree with him, although deep down I know it’s not true. I allowed myself to get dragged along in this bizarre game of big money. With Christine, I know I’ve taken a lot but given little in return. Unfortunately she is not the only victim. My whole life consists of little giving and taking a lot. I’ve pushed my feelings away for the sake of work. I play the hard games of business, but the ultimate price you pay when you play with the big egos in the business world is pure stress, and the game usually ends with loss.

Scrubbing Floors

After a terrible and fitful sleep, I wake to the sound of a temple gong. Sleepily, I look at my watch and see that it’s only 4:30 in the morning. What idiots they are here! To top it off, my head is now pounding. Slowly the conversations from last night come back to me. Tenzing told me by the fire last night that I need to get up when I hear the temple gong, just like the monks, and participate in the morning meditation. I am supposed to keep the same fixed daily schedule that the monks adhere to. It's still pitch dark outside, and I sigh deeply while rubbing my eyes. Last night I was worried sick and ended up taking a second sleeping pill. I fell into a restless sleep around midnight, and not even five hours later I am awake. Five hours of sleep just won’t cut it, especially when my back and shoulders are still in pain from the long hike. I end up sprinkling some icy mountain water in my eyes to get moving then I start to get dressed. Sure, I can play their little game here, and I most definitely won’t give up.

The temple, to my surprise, is completely filled with monks who are reciting lines. I had no idea that there were so many monks in the monastery. Several of them are murmuring while sitting in the lotus position, with their faces directed towards a life-sized golden Buddha. They pray for the welfare of people. In front of the Buddha are images of ancient spiritual masters and lamas. The monks in burgundy are concentrating intensely and don’t notice me. I spot Tenzing sitting in a corner, and he catches my glance out of the corner of his eye. He nods briefly then motions for me to sit down next to him on the floor. Phurba-lama sits with his eyes closed in front of the Buddha and moves back and forth humming softly, as if in a trance. The chanting of the monks reciting starts to irritate me in a strange way. They sound grumpy and false to me; it sometimes even sounds like they are burping. Try as I might, I just can’t stop my thoughts. I have no idea where these feelings are suddenly coming from.

I sit on the floor in a lotus position, mimicking the monks, yet I can’t calm the thoughts in my head. Whenever I think I’ve finally found peace, a new idea pops up in my head. It’s almost as if my mind is playing an evil game with me. I start thinking about Christine, then my mind wanders to Wall Street in New York. I visit there often. With my thoughts racing, I know that I am lacking the peace that the monks so easily radiate. Meditation continues until sunrise, and I spot the first beams of the sun soaking through the windows of the temple When Phurba-lama gives a sign, the monks immediately get up and start shuffling towards the gate of the monastery. Armed with a bowls, they prepare to go to the nearby villages to find food for breakfast. The curious monks notice me, and stare at me, probably wondering what kind of person I am and what I’m hiding in my exhausted body. Their eyes seem to stab right through me. When they finally leave, Tenzing comes towards me.

“And? Managed to meditate?"

"Not really a big success," I reply.

"Have faith. Just do what you are told by the monks. After breakfast I must leave. When the time comes, I'll pick you up again "

"When is that?"

"As mentioned, when the time comes," says Tenzing in a slightly irritated tone. Then he turns around abruptly and walks out of the temple. I stay behind with only the golden Buddha as my company in the sweet smelling temple.

"At eight o’clock, there is breakfast in the dining room," Tenzing tells me from the hallway.

I have no choice but to go back to my room in the silent monastery. I’m feeling ill at ease, but on my bed I try to think of what to do. Strangely enough there is nothing to be done now. That fact makes me nervous. My daily life at home is arranged in such a way that there couldn’t be any moment of boredom. I prefer to plan every minute of every day. Without a moment of reflection, my days are filled. The busy virus characterized my life as if I came up with the saying "time is money" on my own. So now I am stuck for a few hours and have no idea what to do. I am suddenly aware of the inevitable passage of time. This precious good passes each moment of our existence. Enjoying the silence, I close my eyes. I hear it ringing in my ears. After a half an hour I get up and search in my backpack. I get out the only book that I've taken with me to pass the quiet hours with. "From Ratio to Feeling” it says on the cover. I was given the book last month on my birthday from a close friend. At Christine’s urging, I put the book in my backpack before we left for our vacation. Patiently I open the book, but I can’t really concentrate on the content. The pervasive silence grabs me by the throat. I put the book away and I get down on the stone floor and do twenty push-ups. Panting, I get up and go lie on the bed with closed eyes, waiting for the monks to get back.

At 7:30 a.m. I prepare myself for the dining room. I stroll through the quiet monastery and notice that all the bowls that were at the door are now gone. I walk to the patio and sit on a stone bench, then close my eyes so I can enjoy the early rays of dawn. Life here is still pure. A small yellow-mouthed bird flies around chattering with a few other birds. I stare at them intently. How long has it been since I've deliberately watched birds? I cannot remember. In the hallways around the patio I see that the first monks have returned with their full bowls. I get up and walk to the dining room for breakfast. There are monks waiting at a long dinner table that’s filled with dark grey tin plates and mugs White rice, fresh fruit and bread fill up the bowls in the middle of the table. More and more monks keep coming in to the dining room. I keep myself calm and greet the monks with a wai. As Tenzing told me, the monks do not return my greeting, but that doesn’t stop them from looking at me curiously.

I stand uncomfortably in a corner of the dining room and wait until Tenzing enters and takes me to one of the dining tables. The last monks silently enter the dining room with their filled bowls. When everyone is seated, Phurba-lama walks in. He too sits himself down at a table, and after he gives a nod, the monks start to pray, and in silence, the food is distributed. On my plate I get a pile of white rice, a piece of fruit that is most likely an apple, and a hunk of brown bread. In silence, the monks eat their meal with their hands. Eating rice with only my hands is certainly a different experience, but despite my discomfort the food tastes good It seems to me like the food here in the Himalayas is tastier and more powerful than the food back home in the Slowly I start to relax a little. It’s a special experience to eat breakfast in silence between at least thirty, silent monks.

After the meal Tenzing says his goodbyes, and a young monk comes walking towards me. He makes a gesture that indicates he wants me to walk with him. He brings me to a room that judging from the décor and appliances has to be the kitchen, and he hands me a hard wooden brush and a wet mop. Then he fills a tin bucket with warm water from a kettle and throws a dollop of fresh-smelling green soap into it. As I hold the brush and mop precariously in my right hand, the monk pushes the bucket in my free hand and motions me to follow him. In the cloister at the entrance, he said that I can begin scrubbing the floor. Then he turns and walks away. There I am! Perplexed, I look first at the bucket, then the stiff brush, and finally at the long cloister to be scrubbed. I swallow. What am I doing here? I’m a successful stockbroker who regularly earns a large annual bonus, and now I am standing here as though I were one of the best servants ready to scrub the floor. There is no one around and I curse to myself: Damn, I quit my job for this? This thought echoes endlessly in my mind. I'm angry; I go sit beside the bucket on the floor and furiously ball my fists. Cursing loudly, I slam my fist hard on the cold stone floor. Oh, hell! They are completely insane! I angrily put my hands in front of my eyes and stay this way for five minutes. I have no choice; I realize that all too well. Tenzing is gone and I sit here high in the Himalayas, without any contact with the outside world. With a deep sigh, I get down on my knees and start scrubbing the floor, telling myself to make the best of it. Moving the brush in a series of short circles I clean the first stones of the floor; after I finish that task, I mop the floor until the stones are as dry as possible.

After half an hour of scrubbing and mopping, I would like to think I’m done. When can I stop? There is no one to be seen, so I can’t ask anybody. After one hour’s worth of labor, I see that I have cleaned a large piece of floor. I get up and walk into the kitchen to ask if I'm done now. I’ve worked on that floor long enough, and I have shown that I’m willing to help. Near the kitchen, a group of monks is praying in front of a small statue of Buddha. They sit on the floor, holding chains of wooden beads in their hands, wearing their dark red robes, and swaying back and forth with their heads bowed. I hear them murmur their prayers while they let the wooden beads slip through their closed hands. With each repetition of the prayer, the beaded chains move in the monks’ fists. I enter the kitchen. There I find the young monk that gave me the bucket and the stiff brush earlier this morning. He looks at me in surprise, so I try to let him know through hand gestures, that the work is finished. Shaking his head, he walks out of the kitchen and motions me to follow him. With a firm gait he walks into the cloister. He then uses hand gestures to tell me that I have to do the entire cloister. As I stand there in total puzzlement, he walks away and leaves.
Cursing inward, I realize that I must do the entire floor. Do I have a choice? I ask myself, knowing full well that I have to complete my task. Sighing, I get back down on my knees and continue scrubbing the cold hard stones. Slowly, the hours pass as I move the soapy brush on the stone. As monotonous as the task is, cleaning the floor has its benefits: the long, arduous chore gives me space to think about my life. I use that space to think about my career at the bank, which I now have given up for – what, exactly?

But most of the time I think of Christine. Unfortunately, I haven’t been paying her enough attention these past few years. I realize that all too well. My job was always number one, even on weekends. I’m now questioning myself. Christine isn’t more important in my life than my work? How much time did I really have last year for myself and for us? As a multi-armed monster, my career took up all my time. It gave me a more than decent income though. But the money hasn’t made me happier. On the contrary! Only my ego has become better.
As a stockbroker, you are interesting to talk to at parties. I’ve always told people immediately that I worked at the stock market, and then told them about all the success I’ve had.
The bonuses gave me the opportunity, without having to think about it, to buy everything that upgraded my status. Just sitting at a traffic light in a black sports car would make others envious.

I'm so lost in thought that I lose track of time. Suddenly I hear the temple bell for lunch., so I tediously get up and stretch my aching knees. I scrubbed half of the floor, and satisfied with the results, I walk into the dining room with the bucket. The wooden monastery tables have already been set. This afternoon I am initiated into the great spiritual insights. The hard work is over! Lunch consists of white rice with some kind of hot vegetable curry. Because of the hard work , I am now quite hungry. I bet the food tastes well. The monks are still silent. They focus entirely on the taste of the food, while staying as silent as a grave. Eating in this silence is strange to me. It makes eating an intense experience. I used to talk during my meals, which snowed under the power of the food. I never paid much attention to the food. But here the meal is reduced to its true intentions, namely food.

After dinner, the young monk approaches me with a bucket of fresh water in his hands. He brings me to the same cloister, while I curse to myself again. It seems to me that I've had my share of housework for today. The monk gestures that I should continue to scrub the floor. There is no other way. Sighing, I returned to my sore knees and start to do the rest of the floor with short circular motions. My arms and shoulders hurt from the hours of circular motions. Today I just have to take it. Tomorrow the scrubbing will be over, and I will get access to the great monastic secrets. So I will just have to get through this afternoon!

The monotonous physical work brings me back to the past. My father appears dominantly in my mind. He is a cold, unkind man who, with his uncontrollable temper tantrums, instilled fear in me as a young boy.
More than once my father has beaten me because with an almost limitless rage. But I never thought about that heavy loaded word: child abuse. As a boy I didn’t know better and thought that what he did was the way of the world. All fathers beat their children, right?
Now I know only too well that it’s not normal to use physical violence against your children. It’s wrong to hit innocent and vulnerable children, especially if that happens because of your anger. How could you beat your own child? I just do not understand how you can beat a vulnerable young child of your own flesh and blood.
If I ever become a father, I swear to God I will never beat my children. The fear that I experienced as a little boy is something you should never do to a child. The one person I trusted as a child destroyed my trust in the world. That trust was brutally beaten out of me, as if the beating helped solve his own frustrations. It’s strange that these long repressed thoughts now come forward so clearly.

And so the afternoon passes while I scrub and think about the themes in my life. I am alone in the world, fighting the endless stone monastery floor. There is time to pay these long hidden thoughts some attention. Oddly enough, it makes me calmer in my head. I unexpectedly start to enjoy the monotonous rotational movement.
At five o'clock, after several long hours, I get up and stretch out my sore back. My knees feel stiff and sore. Proudly I look at the monastery floor, which now shines in the late afternoon sunlight. With my bucket of black water, I walk into the kitchen and deliver it to the monk.. He nods at me but says nothing. Then I walk toward my room.
On my way I pass a library that’s filled with ancient Buddhist manuscripts. Out of curiosity, I walk into the room. A monk is sitting at a little old table is studying. When he notices me, he looks up and makes an inviting gesture that I should look around. I browse the old hand-written books on a long table. The books are heavy and leather bound and in a language that’s unreadable to me. To my surprise I see an English book with the title, "The stories of Buddha.” Curiously, I pick up the big Buddhist book from the long table and look through it. Soon I am lost in a wonderful story entitled, "The little Sopaka.”

There once lived a boy with the special name of Sopaka. He was the son of an impoverished farmer, who worked hard just to keep his head above water. Sopaka was seven years old, when his father died because of an unknown illness. His mother was desperate and married a cruel man who was bad and unfriendly. He always hit the little Sopaka, although the boy was kind, innocent and good. The stepfather had a passionate nature and his took his anger out at the small Sopaka.

Painfully I looked at the monk studying, because the stepfather strongly reminds me of my own father. It seems too coincidental to me. With interest, I keep reading.

The stepfather wanted to get rid of the little Sopaka: the boy was trouble to him and he found him worthless. Better said, the man hated him intensely! Sopaka's childlike innocence worked on his nerves. But he could not harm him, because his mother than would revolt. Finally the stepfather came up with a mean plan.
One evening he said, "Dear son, let's go for a walk." Sopaka was very surprised by the friendly tone of his stepfather spoke to him. He thought: my stepfather never speaks so kindly to me. But now he seems very willing to be kind to me. Perhaps my mother asked him to be kind to me. And so Sopaka immediately went, without further questioning, to please his stepfather.

But the stepfather had other plans. He took the little boy to the cemetery of the unclean, where here and there were lying smelly, dead bodies. This was the place where criminals, who were not cremated, were left behind. There he tied Sopaka to one of the bodies and left him behind. The little boy sobbed, "Father, please, do not tie me to this dirty and stinking corpse! Please, Father, please. I'm afraid, father. This will kill me!"

Sopaka began to cry as hard as he could, but his stepfather didn’t react and left the cemetery. He no longer looked back at the small Sopaka. The boy was doomed to die at the cemetery because of the the smell, the hunger and of thirst.
As the night grew darker, Sopaka's fear increased. There was no one at the cemetery and the boy was so afraid that even grabbed the dead body which he had tied to. He brook out in cold perspiration, until he was soaked. He could not get rid of the dead, stinking body. When he heard the sound of jackals, tigers and panthers in the distance, he began to cry even harder.
He knew he was all alone in the desolate place and that there was no one who could help him. He would die of hunger and thirst or be torn apart by a wild animal.

By the dawn the boy saw someone approaching the cemetery. It was a man with a radiant look. He looked noble and was surrounded by a very bright light. The man walked directly to Sopaka and spoke to him, "Sopaka, do not cry. I'm here to help, do not be afraid." And within one second Sopaka's rope broke and he was free to go. The man took the poor boy to the temple and took care of him. Sopaka then asked him his name, he gave the answer: Buddha. The holy Buddha had come in all its grandeur to rescue the boy. He gave him food and clean clothes, and he comforted him as a real father would.

When the evil stepfather returned to the house, Sopaka's mother asked him: "Where is my son?"

"I do not know," said the evil man. "I have not seen him." But the woman did not believe her husband and could not sleep all night. She cried and thought only of her little Sopaka.
The next day, early in the morning, she thought, the Buddha knows everything, past, present and future. I have to go to his monastery and ask the Buddha where my son is. And so she went while crying and wailing to the Jetavana monastery. There the Buddha asked her: "Sister, why are you crying?"

"Oh, holy Buddha," the woman replied, "I have only one son who has disappeared since last night. My husband took him for a walk, but when he came home, he no longer knew what had happened to my son. "

"Do not worry, sister. Your son is safe," said the Buddha, and let her see Sopaka. He had now become a faithful follower of Buddha. The mother was very happy to see her son again and heartily thanked Buddha. Reassured she left the temple. Sopaka stayed in the monastery and became a powerful monk who filled the world with his love.

With surprise I put the book back on the bookshelf. This story seems to have been written just for me. This is the reason why the memories of my father have clearly emerged when I was polishing the floors. I look out the window at the dusky evening sky.
Why has my father done this to me? His temper tantrums and excessive anger have been strapped to me as a dead body for many years. My survival strategy has been simple: if I did not think of it, then it did not exist. For years, this dodging strategy helped, until a few years ago. There is a reason why I became depressed. The bodies at the cemetery in the story symbolize the black hole of my depressive episodes. The depression has me tied up without any prospect of freedom. Then suddenly, this monastery came my way there and glimmers on the horizon of freedom. But now I find that I have to confront myself in order to get to freedom. My God, what is going on here? Suddenly everything seems so clear and simple. Clarity, what does that with me? I find I'm only now able to think clearly. Was it maybe a symbolic act to have me scrub the floors? The wax is meant for me to get on my knees and bow to the greatness of life. Is this the lesson that you presented me? Kneel before the greatness of life? When was the last time I helped someone else? I cannot remember.

A Bow to Life

I wipe a tear from my eye with my shirt sleeve then shake my head. The feelings are intense. This is the first time in my life that I’ve had to think about my father’s behavior so openly. I’ve always pushed those feelings away because they are so painful to relive. I keep seeing that little boy, beaten black and blue, and crying in his room with the door locked. He’s lonely and paralyzed with fear of his angry two-faced father. On the outside he is nice and charming, but on the inside there is a man of anger and frustration.
The many beatings had eventually affected my confidence. There was a huge drive to prove myself and this was the cornerstone for my career. But the denying of my hard childhood had a price. My depression and burnout were the result of years of suppressed emotions. Yet the influence of my father’s hitting goes even much further than that. Christine has indirectly become the victim of it. Unconsciously, I have kept a safe distance so I wouldn’t have to show the true me. I hope that she’ll never betray my trust. Because of my childhood, I trust nobody in this world anymore, not even Christine.
The monk looks up and nods to me kindly. It's like he knows what’s going on in my brain.
I have to face my feelings and emotions. A heavy burden is lifted from my shoulders. At last I see what my problem has been all along. By going back to my childhood, a kind of healing has begun.

I walk out of the library and go sit in my room. I miss Christine so much right now. If only she was here so I could hold her and tell her what’s wrong. Naturally, the tears arrive. My dad always told me that a real man doesn’t cry. He even shouted that at me after he had beaten me hard. Now I can’t stop crying. Years of pent up pain and anger make the tears flow. What is happening to me in this monastery? I apparently ended up here so I could battle my biggest fear. Life has tried to teach me that lesson many times before, but I've never listened to it yet. The fear of my father now presents itself again automatically. He was monstrous and inescapable as if a snake in the form of an assassin was in my life. My depression is the result of this. The solution is becoming clearer to me: Trust. Without trust in my life, I’m affected in a way that dominates my life. It’s the fear that I have to let go of. The anxiety has been far worse than physical blows. All that is needed for healing is the realization that faith in life can overcome the fear. Trust is the basis of the monks here. That’s why they radiate so much peace. My fear has kept me trapped in the past, and has had influence on my future without me realizing it. That was the root of the depression that took a hold of me. I avoided the confrontation and had hid my feelings somewhere deep inside me.. The fear was like a virus that had infected me , yet never went away. A moment of weakness had always been sufficient to make it re-emerge and burst out.
Until now! I’m letting go! I can now see myself from a distance. This lesson came to me while I was scrubbing floors, and it is up to me whether I am willing to learn from it. There is no escape. It is up to me to face my fears and make them disappear. Truly a blessing!

The tears stop flowing and I walk over to the sink where I wipe my face clean with a washcloth. Pffff ... the crying has drained me. I go and lay on the bed where I fall into a fitful sleep.
Around half past seven there is an unexpected knock on the door. When I open the door there’s monk. He takes me to the dining room where Phurba-lama is sitting on a stool by the fireplace. He beckons me and gives me a cup of tea. There are two silent monks beside him. They also have a cup of tea in their hands.

"The floor is clean," I say awkwardly.
Phurba-lama nods smiling.

"That's great."

Then it goes quiet while I enjoy the green tea.

"When do we start with Qi?" I ask.

"When the balance between giving and taking is restored," says Phurba-lama.
I frown. Phurba-lama does not excel in the concreteness of his answers. Nobody says anything. The three smiling monks irritate me slightly. I was hoping to get something for dinner, but there is nothing. So I drink my cup of tea, emptying it. I make a silent wai greeting. Then I walk to my room and I pull on my pajamas.
The words of Phurba-lama are still in my head. When is the balance between giving and taking repaired? I do not have a clue what that means. Sighing, I pick up my book "From ratio to feeling” of the table and I read a little before bed. At nine o'clock I put the book away and fall into a deep sleep. This evening I sleep again without help of my sleeping pills.

At half past four the next morning I hear the temple gong. To my surprise, I slept all night. Despite the early hour and my shoulders aching from the scrubbing yesterday, I feel excited and mentally fit. Today the Qi training starts and I will find the strength deep within me.
I quickly put on my clothes and hurry to the temple where the morning meditation is about to start. Meditation is difficult, and it takes some time before I can free my mind enough to sink into it. This morning I am unable to achieve this mental state at all. The strangest thoughts come into my head during this meditation session. Occasionally I look through my squinting eyes, looking around to see other monks sitting on the floor in peace. Fighting thoughts in my mind takes up the entire morning meditation session. A sigh of relief goes through me when it gets six o’clock and the temple gong brings the session to an end. The monks get up and walk to the gate with their bowls, ready to go out.

It’s now completely silent in the monastery, and I'm on the patio on the stone bench. Again I have time to think. I inhale the fresh mountain air with deep breaths. Early in the morning it’s still quiet and the world is pure. This is the time when I would usually be rushing through traffic on my way to work. I know I’m not the only one. Many lives are struck with the busy, busy and more busy virus. People run around stressing, and they forget to enjoy life. The balance is totally lost for many people.
The silence on the patio is forcing me to continue to think about myself. I close my eyes and I feel deeply relaxed and energized. This life has a lot to offer I realize. When I walk to my room at about seven o’clock to wash and shave, I hear the monks have come back.

After breakfast I walk with the same young monk from yesterday. Today, the Qi training starts. I'm totally ready for it! To my disappointment, we walk towards the kitchen. He gives me a bucket of soapy water and a stiff brush in my hand and is then takes off to the library. The monk gestures to me that the floor of the library must be scrubbed. After giving me the order, the monk just walks away. With a deep sigh, I sit down on a stool. The old books around me, full of wisdom which I hunger for, seem to pity me. I had hoped to learn this secret knowledge in the monastery. Instead, I am downgraded to the monastic household help. After sulking on a stool for awhile, I moaned and sighed and reluctantly start scrubbing. On my aching knees, I scrub with the same short, circular motions that I used the day before on the stone floor. I work all morning until the black stone floor really shines.
The temple gong for lunch frees me from my suffering. This also means it is the last meal for the day. Buddhist monks do not eat after twelve o’clock in the afternoon. With pain in my knees, shoulders and back I get up and drag the bucket with black water to the kitchen. To my dismay, I’m assigned the kitchen floor after dinner.. That afternoon I do not want to do my job, but I have no other choice. I’ve given up on the fact that scrubbing floors doesn’t fit with my stature.. The short circles have my full attention and I fall into an almost meditative state. The thoughts in my head are quieter now. I spend the whole day scrubbing these stone floors.

The next day, the brush and bucket are ready for me in the dining room. I start with the patio floor, and spend the entire day scrubbing it clean. The next two days are spent scrubbing the monks’ bedroom floors. It is strange how the monotonous business of scrubbing floors clears my mind. The repetitive movements seem to hypnotize me. It is like a metaphor for spring cleaning within myself, and I am getting rid of all the excess thoughts in my head.

Scrub and soak! Get rid of all unnecessary thoughts! It’s as if my upper chamber itself is waxedwith deliberate thoughts that bring me closer to myself.
I realize more and more that I am going through a transformation. How is it possible that polishing floors puts that into motion? I’ve stopped worrying and I can now enjoy the peace and things around me again. I now finally realize what kind of treadmill I have been on. Scrubbing the floors of the monastery is a kind of therapy which has an instant effect on my mood.

Kind Eyes

The days in the monastery have a regular rhythm which is determined by the temple gong. The gong indicates when it’s time to meditate, eat and sleep. This gives me peace and a solid rhythm and structure. The whole week I have no need for sleeping pills and I haven’t felt this good in years.
At the end of the fifth day which was again filled with scrubbing the floors of the monastery, a monk knocks at my bedroom door. He takes me to the dining room where Phurba-lama is sitting by the fire. I greet the lama with a wai.

"We live astrologically seen in a special time: the Aquarius era," says Phurba-lama mysteriously while he stares into the fire. "Because of the current position of the sun and the planets, it seems like the world is changing faster than ever before. The wrongs of the world become visible and this transparency makes it look like the world is changing fast. These astrological forces make people feel like life is hectic and chaotic. For most people it seems like they are sucked into a hurricane of change. They gasp for breath, trying to keep their heads above water. This time of great and rapid changes has its price. There are more cases of depression and burn-out and other stress related illnesses than ever before. Qi is the answer to keep your power within in this hectic world that we live in today. By using Qi you stay powerful, calm, energetic and in balance, even if the world around you changes with the speed of a hurricane. With the help of Qi you are in the center of this hurricane of change.”

The words of Phurba-lama certainly don’t miss their goal. I have tried many times to master my stress in the dealing room. Unfortunately, I couldn’t master it and the stress affected my health. My work took up more of my time every day. Even on vacation I took a laptop with me. Suppressing my childhood trauma has made me weak, and all the hard work was just the final straw that broke the camel’s back. The depression has gotten a hold of me and has taken all the energy out of my body. I didn’t want to, but I got sucked into the black hole and now I can’t even sleep without sleeping pills.

“What’s Qi? I want to know everything about it,” I sound almost despiteful.

Finally Phurba-lama looks up and looks me in the eye.

“After all those days of scrubbing floors you are finally ready.”

All of a sudden I get very excited.

“Ready for what?”

“You’ll have to do a very hard test to earn the Qi knowledge, though. Every monk in this monastery has done this test before receiving the knowledge.”

“A test?”

“Yes, on top of the holy Nilgiri Mountain, not far from here, there is a stupa. This is the highest Buddhist monument in the world and because of that it’s very holy. The path to the stupa is tough and tiring. Every monk from this monastery has to take a scroll with a personal prayer on it and bring it to the stupa. Only then can he become a member of the monastery and receive the knowledge of Qi. It is your time to go on this journey to the holy stupa and put down your own prayer there. Only if you succeed on this journey do you receive the Qi knowledge. Tomorrow morning you will leave. I am convinced that Qi will change your live forever.”

Phurba-lama looks me deep in the eyes and I get lost in his kind look. His eyes show no judgment. So silent as his mouth is, so much say his eyes to me. I absolutely believe that the eyes are a window to the soul. Eyes can tell you way more than you think. The look that Phurba-lama gives me is open and full of love. Phurba-lama has no second agenda and no secrets because that is not in the interest of the group. Phurba-lama looks, just as all the other monks, like he wants to be invisible for all other human beings. It almost seems symbolic that in this rocky area you can’t leave any footprints. But there is more. He is always very calm. Phurba-lama seems to smile the entire time. It’s as if he’s laughing at my behavior and stress. It is in my nature to always want answer to my questions, even though I know that if I get an answer, I will go looking for new answers. The lama gets up and leaves the dining hall. To me, he represents the power of silence. I stay behind with my curiosity. Luckily for me, scrubbing the floors wasn’t for nothing. I am getting close to the Qi knowledge.

Not much later Phurba-lama comes back with a silver object in this right hand. I can see right away that it’s a prayer wheel. In his other hand he holds a blank piece of paper. He gives the prayer wheel and the piece of paper to me, and tells me to write my own text on the scroll. Then he leaves the dining hall. I get up and go to my room. The rest of my evening I spend beside an oil lamp with the scroll of blank paper, chewing on my pen. At first I have no inspiration at all. I try really hard, but when the time passes, I decide to let it go. Late at night, hours after the gong has rang,, I get in some sort of trance and write the following text:

Long time I suffered.

My longing has brought me here.

I found heaven on earth.

It set me free of my fears.

I’ve learned to let go of my childhood,

To recognize myself again.

I want to start living my life,

And be who I am.

I look surprised at the written text and shake my head. The poem touches me deeply. I didn’t know I had that kind of poetry in me. My whole life I’ve been a man of reason. Black is black and white is white. “Christine has called me the “Ice King” more than once when we were fighting. Damn, what is happening to me here in this monastery?
The monastery awakens feelings in me that I do not know. Be who I am? I read again the words that were created from scratch. Who am I?

I carefully fold the scroll that I’ve written on, put it in the silver prayer wheel and prepare it for the next day. In preparation for the difficult journey to the sacred stupa, I put the prayer wheel, my sleeping bag, my medication, dry socks and underwear in my backpack, and place it beside the bed. Around ten o'clock I fall into a deep sleep. Tomorrow is the big day.

The Test

Like every morning, I wake up at half past four because of the temple gong. Unlike yesterday though, I'm nervous today. I wash myself and walk to the temple for the morning meditation. As with the beginning of every other day, there are monk swaying and murmuring to the golden Buddha, reciting their mantras until the first light comes into the room. The murmur of the monks in the early morning sounds almost supernatural, giving off a mystical atmosphere.

After breakfast I have a big surprise waiting for me. When I exit the dining hall, I’m suddenly standing face to face with Tenzing. There is a backpack over his shoulder and he has his boots on.

"Tenzing,” I cry in surprise. "What are you doing here? Am I going home?"

"No, I’m accompanying you to the stupa," he replies cheerfully.
Apparently he agreed to this in advance with the monks. I want to ask him whether he has heard anything from Christine, but I know that the question is pointless. A monk comes to pick us up and brings us to the library where Phurba-lama is studying an old, thick Buddhist book. Without looking up from his book, Phurba-lama begins to speak:

"Before you go to the stupa, I wish to tell you an old story. Listen!
About one thousand years ago there lived an emperor in the Himalayas, who materially seen had everything his heart desired. He ruled over an empire and yet he was not happy. He wanted the state to attain divine perfection, so he was like a God here on earth. Obviously he was just an ordinary person, with all its good and bad sides. His human side frustrated him and he remained in his quest for the divine perfection for a long time.
One day he heard a story about a Tibetan monk who was in the country and would have a magic pan, in which you could just make all earthly annoyances, frustrations, stress and pain disappear. All your problems dissolve into nothing, people whispered about the magic pan. With this magic pan I can finally attain divine perfection, the emperor thought. The emperor ordered his secretary to find the Tibetan monk immediately and bring him to the emperor. After weeks of searching the secretary finally found the monk and brought him to the emperor.
The emperor explained excitedly that he wanted to buy the magic pan at any price to be able to measure up to the gods. The monk thought for a while and decided to reveal the secret in exchange for a piece of land with its own monastery on it. The deal was sealed and the monk told his big secret. Every human has a divine magic pan in his belly, which is three inches below the navel. The focus of your body rests in this place, that point is called Qi. The thing that is so special about Qi is that this is the connection of every human with the entire universe. With your Qi point you can get rid of frustration, pain, fatigue and anything else you want to be freed of. If you let it drain through your Qi every problem disappears in the infinite nothing. This is the secret of Buddhist monks, who live with a deep inner peace.

The monk taught the emperor how he could experience his own Qi, causing fear and frustration to disappear.. After many years of very hard practice, the emperor reached the divine perfection.
The emperor kept his word and gave the monk high in the Himalayas a piece of land containing a monastery. There, the knowledge of Qi was further developed."

It’s quiet for a while as I let the story sink in.

"Is this perhaps the monastery that the emperor once gave to the monk?"

"According to tradition, that is the way this monastery began a thousand years ago."
Phurba-lama gets up and comes to stand right in front of me. With his forefinger he stabs me in the stomach at a point about three inches below my navel.
"Cough once."
Surprised I do what I’m told and I feel the touched point push a little outwards.

"That's your Qi point that is connected to the universal energy," says Phurba-lama. “Imagine this Qi drainage as a flexible hose. If the hose is not blocked, the energy can flow freely through your body through the Qi point. Then you feel calm and energetic. By stress and tension the hose gets blocked by many people, unfortunately. The energy cannot flow and you feel tired and sad. Your energy level is determined by how your universal energy flows through your Qi point.
In addition, the Qi point has another function. If you are tired or in pain, fatigue and pain is removed by this Qi point and it will flow away. Practice your Qi point and like the Emperor, discover the world of power and inner happiness. "How do I do that?"

"By touching the Qi point and shifting your attention to your Qi."
I thank Phurba-lama with a wai for his wisdom and walk behind Tenzing out of the library.

We walk through the long corridor outside and leave the monastery behind us. Soon we follow a trail that goes upwards. I feel the strong inclination that makes the muscles in my legs burn, as if a mean acid in my thighs is slowly dissolving. It must be the combination of thin air and the steep slope. I breathe hard, high in my chest, and every few steps I have to rest. Fortunately the backpack is a lot lighter than it was on the journey to the monastery. After half an hour of struggling, I arrive at the first break to rest and enjoy a fantastic view. The light here seems different. In this place I seem to be above the rest of the world. This is the place where wisdom resides and peace reigns. I long for my inner self to learn and grow. Grow in freedom without the limitations I have had before. All the old values I’ve dragged along my path to the top. Desperate and hungry for peace and inner strength, I have come this far. The air is thin and the separation between the world and heaven seems small. It’s a limit that suddenly no longer seems unbridgeable. Here there is a calm silence that lasts forever and is boundless, full of vast potential. I breathe the silence and I feel it filling my heart. Up here in the Himalayas you can see what life is really about. This is where the wind is transformed into new words. The desire for Qi calls me up the mountain, because up in the stupa is all the knowledge.

We resume our climb back up the steep path. Up we go. The magic moment of silence and peace is gone and is replaced by oxygen deficiency and sore muscles. Everything hurts and this torment doesn’t seem to end. After a few short breaks I'm out of breath after only one hour.I go and sit on a stone. My lungs hurt from the rapid breathing in the cold, thin air and I have a stabbing pain in my side. I can’t walk any further. I taste the blood in my mouth and I curse my body. What am I doing here at five thousand meters? Tenzing sits next to me and stabs his finger into my abdomen in my Qi point.

"Remember the words of Phurba-lama," he says. "You're fighting yourself and not against the elements. Relax yourself and bring your attention to your body and to your Qi point. Make your head clear and fill your belly with attention. You will see that it will get easier to climb the mountain. Let the pain and fatigue dissolve in your Qi point, just like the Emperor did a thousand years ago. If you get stuck in your head, touch the Qi point with your index finger. That will help you."

I nod apologetically to Tenzing. By the exertion I had forgotten about the story of Phurba-lama and I was again caught up in my thoughts. He told me this story just before I started this difficult journey for a reason. I solemnly promise myself to focus on my inner strength for the rest of the way. Deep abdomen breathing is the least I can try. After a sip of water, I store my canteen and continue the trip. I must admit that, despite the steep climb, it goes better. The feeling of fighting has disappeared and gave way to peace. Perhaps it is only imagination, but Qi seems to exist indeed. I breathe deeply from my belly and try to imagine that my fatigue is dissolving in the Qi point. After some practice, I feel the fatigue go away and get some power back into my body. Surprised, I look around me. The setting is enchanting and suddenly I am aware of the elements that are present in extremes. The view is breathtaking and the air I breathe cleanses my body. If I breathe deep into my belly, it almost seems to hurt, as if my lungs are finally able to stretch. Before Tenzing’s intervention I saw none of this beauty, I was caught up in my thinking and self-pity. The fight against myself, had me completely isolated from the environment. But now I see the fantastic panorama of white peaks of the Himalayan giants before me. God is near. I feel that, despite the fact that I am definitely not religious. He is in everywhere around me.

We walk on a flat, barren plateau covered with large stones and pebbles. The pace slows down a little. The panting stops and makes way for a peaceful, deep breathing from my belly. The wind is starting to blow harder. The cold breeze tickles my senses and cleanses my soul. And if I'm – quiet enough, t the wind whispers to me in a language that my soul understands. The same language that is known to the trees that makes their leaves move in the wind or the waves of the sea, which lift and come down again in a perpetual rhythm. The wind takes my thoughts back to Christine. We've been together for so long that I probably know her better than my own mother. I know exactly how she reacts, how she makes love and when she is going to say something. And while the predictable perhaps may seem boring to an outsider, it is precisely this stability that I miss right now. I just love her even with all her bad habits, like her shoe addiction. She has more than fifty pairs of shoes in our wardrobe just waiting to be used at least once. I smile at the thought and continue walking. Just thinking of Christine gives me the energy I really need in this subtle, low-oxygen air. After walking on the barren plains for half an hour, we stop for lunch. Our lunch is simple and plain: coarse brown bread and water. We are both on a large boulder enjoying the view as I chew hard on the bread and swallow. I get lost in thoughts again and think of the concept of time, which has been keeping me busy for the last few days. People seem to want to control time constantly since the human kind is conscious of time. But we use the term time wrong in our culture. We want to leave something meaningful and are in a constant hurry. But the only thing I’ve learned from that so far is that watching the time gives me stress. And it gives me no extra time by hurrying. Scrubbing the floors made me realize this, and I no longer hurry. Miraculously everything still works within the same time. So, you do not get time, you make time. And here on top of the mountain, time just isn’t important. The sun rises, and later the moon takes its place. This cycle goes on forever.

"Peter!"
The hard sound startles me.

"Have you experienced the power of Qi?" Tenzing asks.
I nod uncertainly. It was that easier getting up the mountain while breathing deeply from my abdomen and thinking of my Qi point, but I cannot directly say that it doesn’t cost me any effort anymore. Yet it seems that I have access to a new source of energy.

"The more you practice, the stronger the Qi stream," says Tenzing encouraging.

After lunch we continue our journey. The strong, cold wind that blows through the barren plateau has increased considerably. I see Tenzing looking at the skies with worry, and I can tell from his facial expression that he’s worried about the weather. The weather can be dangerous here. I remember that from a documentary I watched about a Mount Everest expedition. More than once I've read newspaper articles about people disappearing in a storm during their expedition. I put my backpack down and grab my jacket, which I put over my thick sweater.

We continue to struggle against the hard wind. I plow step by step until I suddenly feel a sharp pain in my ankle. In a reflex, I fall to the ground and know right away that something is wrong. I've stumbled and sprained my ankle. I take my backpack off and moaning from the pain, I grab my ankle. How can this happen? I panic because I think that my trip to the stupa ends here. The stabbing pain in my ankle is intense and I close my eyes. Tenzing notices that I am no longer following him and he comes to me. He gets on his knees next to me and pulls my right shoe and sock off. My ankle is purple and blue, and starts to become visibly thicker. Then something remarkable happens. Tenzing rubs his hands together and puts his hands around my ankle. My foot is piping hot and my ankle starts to tingle. Slowly I feel the pain go away. We stay this way for about ten minutes. The ankle is still blue, but not swollen anymore, and the pain is gone. On his instruction I put my sock and shoe back on. I’m not exactly sure what Tenzing did, but by some miracle I get back on my two feet. The ankle feels heavy, but it’s not painful anymore. Slowly I shuffle a few steps forward and note that walking doesn’t hurt. It seems like magic! Tenzing grabs my backpack over his other shoulder and together we walk across the desolate plains against the cold wind. I look intently at the floor to be sure that I don’t step on a rock again. My attention and breathing are deep in my abdomen.

The Storm

In the distance I notice inky clouds. The cold wind gets even stronger, so that I, despite my warm sweater and windbreaker, get cold. The pain in my ankle is manageable. Then from out of nowhere there is a dense fog coming up, so our vision is minimal. I do a quick prayer in hopes that the mountain storm will not continue. Tenzing stands still and searches the poorly visible area for decent shelter from the storm. He then pulls me to a number of large boulders in the middle of the plateau. Struggling against the cold, hard wind, we seek shelter behind rocks.

It starts to get dark when we finally reach our camp in the fog. Tenzing takes out a small, old and worn tent. We can’t get the stakes in the fossilized soil, so we are forced to tie the ropes to stones. I put my backpack, sleeping bag and mat in the tent, then go outside to sit on a stone in the freezing cold.
Tenzing has found some dead wood and twigs, and tries to make a campfire so we can make dinner in the shelter of a boulder. But the strong wind gets to the fire. It’s now quite dark, which makes me more anxious about the storm. In the distance I hear a screeching sound slowly approaching. The mist dissolves temporarily, and it seems like a huge vacuum cleaner is turned on.
Suddenly there was a flash and everything around us is in bright blue light. There’s a loud bang and the ground shaking. My breath catches and Tenzing jumps. Lightning crashed down less than a hundred meters away from us. "To the tent!" Tenzing shouts, visibly panicking. "This is a mountain storm of the worst kind!"
The fog has fully returned, and now it starts to rain hard. We get in the tent and knot it shut with robes. In the distance I hear the ominous roar getting louder and it seems to be coming in our direction. This could be a devastating tornado, I realize. The end of Peter Blokland! The mountains can be deadly, I know only too well.

I crawl into my sleeping bag, while Tenzing anxiously watches the entrance of the tent. I keep lying still. I hear the mountain thunder storm coming closer. The large boulders that hide our tent are hit by the wind constantly. The rain is pouring heavier and is now flying horizontally. The roar of the wind is nearby. The tent is flapping and is close to tearing apart. Water seeps inside. The roar of the wind is scary and fast. "God, if you exist, please help me," I murmur while hiding in my sleeping bag.
With a deafening bang, a bright flash hits next to the tent. The wind roars and the devastating power of nature show up. I hear the back left portion of the tent coming apart, and immediately pieces of canvas get torn and start flapping away in the devastating wind.. It’s the beginning of the end. With a jerk, the complete fabric of the tent tears off and disappears into the inky night. The rain beats hard right into my face. I see a blue, bright flash a couple feet away from me. I'm dying here! Now all I can do is crawl into my sleeping bag.

I peered around me from the hole in my sleeping bag.. Bright flashes light our surroundings. Staring in amazement, I see Tenzing sitting beside the rocks in lotus position in the blue light of the lightning. He looks like a lump of power, which seems untouchable by all the force of nature. It seems as if the world is silent, as if I am looking at a picture. I’ll never forget the image of seeing a man meditating in a thunderstorm.. How on earth is it possible in this frightening situation to remain calm and so powerful?
It seems like Tenzing is indulging in the circumstances. As scared as I am, he seems to be so powerful. I put my head deeper into the sleeping bag and shiver with fear. Yet I still picture Tenzing, sitting in the lotus position, surrounded by the mountain storm. Immediately the storm swallows all my attention again. The strong wind plays with my backpack and I squeeze my eyes shut. Slowly I feel the water dripping into my sleeping bag. If it's my time, I can no longer change it. What a force of nature!

Yet we are lucky! As fast as the storm came, it disappears again just as fast. The wind is weakening now and the flashes are blurred. It even stops raining.
I survived! Gratitude shoots through my head as I get out of my dripping wet sleeping bag.

"Peter," I hear Tenzing calling me.
When I answer, he comes walking towards me. I'm soaking wet, and intensely cold. I hope I don’t get the flu! This was the first time in my life that I’ve experienced the real power of nature. Only now I realize how insignificant we are as humans.

The tent and my backpack are blown away, but fortunately Tenzing finds my backpack after a short search. It was sandwiched in between the rocks a few feet away. I nod a thanks to Tenzing. From the side pocket of my backpack, I take out a working flashlight. In the glow of the light, Tenzing tries to find some wet sticks to make a campfire. We must quickly try to dry our clothes so we don’t get ill. How Tenzing succeeds and makes a fire with wet sticks. I don’t know, but suddenly we have fire. Wet and shivering, we sit together around the campfire,while Tenzing fuels the fire. I'm amazed by this whole experience.

"I saw you sitting outside during the mountain storm," I say, shivering with cold.

"That's right. I meditated," says Tenzing.

"How can you sit in this storm and quietly meditate?"

"By simply connecting to my Qi. Whatever happens around you, if you are fully connected to the Qi stream you are quiet, powerful and in control.”

"Are not you afraid that you can die in the storm?"
Tenzing shakes his head.

"If it is your time, then you die. There is nothing you can change about that and you cannot control it yourself. Fear of death, I do not have. Therefore, I can let go and get into my Qi strength. From this power, I can meditate quietly, even during a mountain storm."
I nod understandingly to Tenzing, but I know I'm still far away from this inner source of peace within myself.

The wind has completely died down, and the sky above us is getting better. In the distance I see a faint flash of light. Tenzing runs away to seek new wood, and I try to rub my hands warm. It all seems like this is all a bad dream.
Tenzing is back with his arms full of wet branches. The fire blazes after much effort and makes me somewhat warm and dry. Tenzing pulls a saucepan from his backpack and hangs it above the fire, He then prepares a stew of potatoes and cauliflower. After our heavy day, even this simple meal tastes delicious. The sky has now completely opened up and hundreds of millions of bright stars shine the inky sky. The view of the sky is breathtaking. From hell to heaven! I never thought that there could be so many stars in our universe.

The Holy Stupa

We start up an easy conversation by the warm, crackling fire.

"You're lucky!" said Tenzing.
I look at him, not understanding.

"Buddhist monks believe that running into a mountain storm on your way to the holy stupa is something special. It is a sign of the great ruler of the universe that the journey to the stupa will bring you happiness and prosperity. Just as suddenly and violently as the mountain storm arose, so too will your life change. The storm will blow away the fog in your life. Then you get a clear view of the sparkling stars within yourself. Qi will help you regain your inner strength, I can promise you that. Qi throws your life upside down and it is beautiful. You're a lucky man. Few monks will encounter a fierce mountain storms on their way to the stupa. Only Phurba-lama encountered a storm on his way to the stupa."

Surprised, I look at Tenzing.

"We believe that the harder the journey to the stupa, the more important the job of the person who undertakes the journey. Buddha shows his strength with this storm."
Then we become quiet by the crackling wood fire. I rub my hands above the hot fire and don’t know exactly what I think about Tenzing just said.

"Peter, what is actually your problem?" Tenzing asks suddenly. "When I first met you, I immediately saw that a lot was wrong with you."
I sigh deeply, think, and decide to only tell a part of my story. "The heavy workload, but my boss Rick also causes a lot of tension. Rick is a nasty man who thwarts me constantly," I reply.

"Stop it, Peter,” he tells me harshly. "The cause is not outside of you. Forgive your boss's behavior. He did help you."

"Helped? Crushed me, you mean! He even fired me," I say angrily. Tenzing softly shakes his head.

"We all come to this world in order to learn from this life. To grow, you need other people to be your mirror. Whatever your boss has done to you, forgive him. At a higher level, he has helped you to grow. He came into your life just when you needed that experience. Unfortunately, growing is not only fun, but often an unpleasant experience. Nothing is coincidence in this life, and everything happens at the right time, when you're ready. The outside world is a mirror of your inner world and gives you chances to get yourself to a deeper level in order to develop and heal yourself. If you accept yourself, you can live in peace and be thankful for what happens to you. Even with that so called annoying boss of yours. The past is something you cannot add anything to, and where you cannot get anything from anymore. The emotions, sometimes painful, are part of that time in the past. They have made you who you are now.
Hatred and frustration block the Qi flow and make you unhappy and sick. It is these negative emotions that settle themselves in your body, with all its consequences. You do not have to approve of the deeds of others. Let the emotions that arise at that moment stay where they are. Then you can really let go of the past and you can use light, energy and love to live fully in the here and now."

Suddenly I see clearly how striking the words of Tenzing are. Slowly I get rid of the evil feelings I have towards Rick. Why I have stressed so long about something I cannot change? Rick was haunting my mind and has become the scapegoat of my own frustration. I see that now. The same applies of course to my father. I can sit here and play the victim, but how does that help me? My father can’t take his hard blows back. Ultimately, my unresolved past has been the cause of my burnout. On the other hand, it has given me the opportunity to grow. Without the burnout, I would have never ended up in this monastery. Tenzing looks at me and smiles. A smile is the simplest gift you can give to another, while perhaps the most valuable. The feeling that a smile leaves, is permanent. It is an outward evidence of the harmony that one has found in itself and gives it to someone else. Only when you love and are in harmony with yourself, you will radiate that. That is what makes Tenzing a beautiful person.

For a long time it’s quiet as I stare thoughtfully into the fire.

"How did you heal the pain in my ankle this afternoon?" I ask Tenzing.

"That is because I paved a way to your own inner strength. By contacting your Qi power you're capable of many things, even the flow of energy in a sprained ankle."

"What exactly is Qi?"

"Qi is the life energy that every human being has from birth. If you hold a baby, you know what Qi energy is. Unfortunately, many adults lose their access to their Qi energy. They live life with their ratio, not from their feelings. They get caught up in their thinking, which blocks the flow of Qi. The mountain peoples living in the Himalayas live from their feeling which is in the abdomen. And right there is every man's inner strength. Sherpas have not lost their contact with their Qi flow yet. Even old women walking with huge bundles of sticks on their necks in the mountain have not lost their Qi power. We have an incredible power within ourselves that many Western people have lost sight of. As a guide, I have seen many Western tourists, and escorted them on their trip through the mountains. What I have noticed is that many are totally caught up in their thinking and in no way really interact with themselves or with their environment. Their attention does not go beyond their heads. After two weeks they have seen nothing of the true beauty of the Himalayas. The reality of the here and now is gone and they live in the fantasies of their own thoughts. If you feel snowed under, you are no longer nourished by the beauty of nature. People without an active Qi stream often look lifeless. Their life energy seems to have disappeared."

"How did that happen?"

"If you have pinch a garden hose shut, no more water comes through," says Tenzing. "And without water life dries up. This works the same for people who no longer have access to Qi. The energy in their body blocks and they burn up slowly. Without an active Qi stream you feel down and you cannot do as much as you used to."

The concept of Qi intrigued me immensely. I too was burned slowly and chronic depression had taken possession of me. I know how painful it is to slip into a black hole, with no prospect of ever coming out of it. I want nothing more in the world than to once and for all get rid of my depression. I want to feel as energetic as a newborn baby.

"How can I regain access to this life energy?"
Tenzing is quiet.

"Simply by trying to rediscover your feelings and activate you Qi stream. If you have a plant that is almost dead, you can water it, and it will flower again after a while. With an active Qi flow your life changes. Suddenly you will experience the true beauty of this life and you can enjoy all the beauty that life has to offer. Bring your attention to your Qi point in your abdomen and then look again at the sky."

I do what he tells me. A deep and tingling feeling comes over me. Can it really be so easy to find happiness? Apparently, because my personal experience is clear and convincing. I consider myself lucky that I ended up in this monastery by fate. It changed my life dramatically; I am convinced of that..
Tired and satisfied, I sit on a rock with the damp sleeping bag around me. I look at the twinkling lights above me. Sleeping under the stars in the Himalayas! Can life get any better than this? The stars seem brighter and closer than I've ever seen. A better view might not be possible, but it certainly could be warmer.
The temperature drops to zero, so I fall asleep shivering.

The next morning I awaken with the first morning light. I am numb with cold, and I have chattering teeth. I get up and try to cough the thick, sticky slime out of my lungs. Tenzing is already working to gather some wood for setting up a pan of water. Our tent was taken by the wind and is nowhere to be seen. I wash in a small pool of water that is a little further on the plateau. I shiver from the damp clothes on my body and the chilly early morning air. Today is the last stretch to the stupa.
In the meantime Tenzing has managed to make a new fire from the remains ofthe last one. A pan of water is warming up above the fire for tea. A few minutes later we sit around the fire eating damp bread. In addition, we drink a mug of hot tea and enjoy a beautiful sunrise, the white mountain peaks in the distance do light up in the morning light. The tea warms me up and we both apparently have no desire to say much. I take a deep breath from my abdomen and bring the attention of my Qi point. Although I cannot describe this feeling, it seems like I have gotten into a totally different dimension. The colors around me seem more intense, and I can consciously hear every sound. My thoughts are pushed into the background, and I am aware of the here and now. For a moment my mind is off and the plans in my head are solved. I'm just there.
We pack our backpacks and about seven o’clock and leave for the stupa.

Walking warms up my numb and stiff muscles. The weather is clear and we can see for miles. You cannot see any signs from the storm from last night. The first part, we walk over the flat plateau. I try to keep warm in the early morning sun. Occasionally we stopped to catch our breath and enjoy the view. We are not far below the snow line.
on the top of the world it is beautiful and peaceful. Here you are close to the world of the gods, that you feel everything around you. The atmosphere is peaceful and mystical, which is totally unknown to me, but something I've always subconsciously longed for it.
After half an hour the steep climb up to the stupa begins. Fortunately, I have little trouble with my sprained ankle. Around us, between the snow, are small and large loose boulders, which you can easily stumble on. The image of Tenzing, quietly meditating in the violent storm comes up again. My greatest wish is to be that calm and strong in life. I concentrate on the Qi point in my abdomen. I’m not sure if I imagine it or not, but it' is easier to climb this time. Every few steps we stop to take a breath. We are here at well over five thousand meters high, and there is little oxygen in the air.

After three hours of walking at a slow pace, I am, despite my attempts to connect to my Qi, exhausted. The world is now completely white around us. In the distance I see a white building standing in the snow.

"That is the stupa," says Tenzing, pointing to the top of the mountain. The end goal of our journey seems so far away and I really want to quit. The thin air and the long climb swallowed up all my energy, and I feel empty and burned out.
I take the canteen out of my backpack and take a few sips of water. With a grim look, I stare up at the white stupa. I'm ready for the final climb. The term “giving up” is not in my dictionary.

The thin air cuts my breath away. At this height there is no longer a path, but we still plow through the snow and over the rocks and cliffs. Gently I hold myself steady on the rocks, afraid to cut my hands open on the sharp edges. The last mile is going straight up. The rope isn’t that secure, and I know that there’s a risk of slipping and falling to the abyss. I press my body as much as possible to the mountainside. My thigh muscles are quivering because the strength it takes me to do this, and my hands are cold. Finally, we make it through, after the necessary climb of the dangerous final meters. I spot a 5,800 meter bridge that leads to the stupa I put a clenched fist in the air as a sign of victory: I have it! The road is open to the power of Qi. The fighter in me has won. I look out over the snowy Himalayan peaks, and the view is truly enchanting.

There is a wonderful thing about snow: it seems the rocky ground is covered under a blanket of peace and purity. It preserves what must remain immersed in the chill, and releases what must disappear. Snow also purifies the air around me and the chill seems to breathe into me a certain awareness of life to give. Every breath I take is purified of dust and other impurities by the cold air. Snow also ensures us that the contours of everything around us are reduced to their essence. Everything in the landscape with snow still that remains standing upright belongs in that landscape and will survive the tides of the seasons. I am also purified by the air. The cold brings me back to my innermost being and the thin air makes it so my thoughts are reduced to a certain essence. Clear thinking. Clear as the air in the winter. My breath is visible because of the cold. It is a testament to the warmth that I radiate in my surroundings. My breath disappears into the cold wind, where water and oxygen absorb used carbon, and take it into the tango of life. The thin mountain air awakes the philosopher in me. Great!

The stupa isn’t that big, and only one person can be in it at a time. The Buddhist temple has an unidentifiable magical aura. Atop the white spherical dome of the stupa, sits a painted white cube, that’s obviously been affected by the harsh climate. There are two large painted eyes on each of the four standing sides of the stupa. These eyes watch from the top of Mount Nilgiri, and observe the entire world. A copper crown sits on top of the cube, and several thick ropes of multicolored flags fall to the ground. Many of the sun-bleached flags have been ripped by the strong mountain winds. Everything tells me that this is a special place. Tenzing kneels flat on the ground in front of the stupa. He’s expressing his respect for the great wisdom of Buddha. I take out the prayer wheel that Phurba-luma gave me, and walk to the stupa. A golden Buddha statue sits inside the stupa in between some blown-in snow and several other prayer wheels. I kneel down before the Buddha and put my prayer wheel down next to the others. This is the first prayer wheel of a Western man, I realize. Then I make a wai to the Buddha statue. Intuitively, I murmur the last sentence of the text that I have written on the scroll: I want to be who I am. Like a mantra, I repeat that one sentence over and over in my head. That is why I am here of course, in this stupa, close to the higher powers and gods of this world. An inexplicable emotion overwhelms me and I start crying for no reason. What is happening to me? I want to be who I am! The thought keeps running through my head. From childhood on I’ve learned to survive. I've learned to put on a mask to prevent someone from seeing my soul. At a young age, my confidence was destroyed by my father. This childhood has shaped me. My life is like a perpetual play in which I faithfully play a chosen role. I keep a distance from others and see myself as a chameleon who can adapt to the environment. But no one has seen my true self, not even Christine. Enough already with this play! I have something to offer the world! But to accomplish this task, I must first be who I really am. And that's a much nicer person than the actor that the people around me know so well. This insight comes up when I am in the stupa, in perhaps the highest temple on earth, which seems like magic to me. It is as if the higher powers show their mercy.

The Philosopher Awakens

It's time to leave the stupa. When I emerged from the stupa is see that Tenzing is quietly meditating outside in the snow. The sun shines on his balding head. When I look at him, I see a wise man with an old soul. I sit down on a rock and look pensively out over the Himalayas. It's a beautiful, clear day and I feel intensely happy. Finally I came home. What is it that makes these mountains so special?
From the top you can see everything. You look out over the world and it seems like the height also gives a better overview and makes it easier to judge the world. But now that I’m sitting here, all the need to judge has disappeared. I’ve risen above who I was and now oversee the world with love. That's why I don’t judge. At the same time I wonder why I've had such a strong need to judge to begin with. For justice? Do I need to be right or do I need to be heard? I don’t care anymore. I am a part of the whole and the whole is a part of me. Oh, I was already, but now I see it, and I experience it. And now here I am at the top of Nilgiri. The climb to get here was hard. There was no paved road; , only crevices and flat parts that you could put your feet on. Yet I have a remarkable feeling of trust and surrender. The more I thing about it, the more I realize that there was indeed a path. The virgin snow was not impassable. It has a symbolic meaning. Every man must find his own way and therefore it’s useless to look at someone else's footsteps. That invisible path is there for all who will see.

Then something remarkable happens. A hawk perches on some fifty meters down and we seem to exchange a look of understanding. There is nothing that hinders me in the greatest sense of wisdom and understanding. Like I just need to spread my wings, knowing that I can fly. What keeps me from discovering my deepest self? All that is needed is trust. Trust is the opposite of fear. Everything man does is out of fear, and fear comes from a lack of confidence. I have enough experience with that in my life.
What exactly is anxiety?
My deepest self gives the answer. It’s as if I draw on an inexhaustible source of wisdom. Anxiety occurs where there is no power. Fear creates both offenders and victims. It doesn’t unite people, it makes them enemies. Only where there is trust, love can grow.

So I'm sitting in the snow with my philosophical thoughts. Wisdom surrounds me here in this beautiful setting.
I'm curious about the immense energy of Qi, which will reveal itself to me. As the first Western person in the coming days, I am initiated into the spiritual secrets of the monastery. Finally, I leave behind the feelings of my childhood and I can be who I am. No opinions, but only purpose is now filling my life. Because of the silence, altitude and the sun, I feel lazy. I close my eyes and sink into a short sleep.

Tenzing has now takes bread out of his backpack and calls me to dinner. After dinner, it's time to return back to the monastery. I get up and grab my backpack. The first part is steep and dangerous and I cling to the rocks as much as possible. Then it becomes slightly less steep, and I can walk down gently. We cross the snow line. After a while I have a lot of pain in my knees, and my sprained ankle is playing up again. For hours I suppress the pain and concentrate on avoiding loose rocks.

It’s dusk when we reach the point where we will spend the night. Tenzing makes a wood fire so he can start dinner. Meanwhile, I walk into a small mountain stream a little further, to wash myself. I take off my boots and socks and stick my sore and tired feet in the icy water. My feet begin to tingle and it feels good.
After refreshing myself a bit further, I put on my sweaty socks and my hiking boots and walk back to Tenzing. A hot mug of tea is waiting for me by the fire.

"Tenzing, you're my hero," I say jokingly.
The old guide does not answer, but smiles. He is a man of few words. Somehow I think it’s good that you don’t have to say too much, and just can be who you are. How different I was it when I worked at the bank in Amsterdam. Your popularity was there mainly measured by to how hard you could scream and brag. "Profiling yourself well" was the adage. The wisdom in your words was not important. Only the loud bragging helped your career leap.

A cooking pot of rice is cooking above the fireplace.. It doesn’t seem like I am getting anything else to eat tonight besides a portion of white rice, but to me it tastes good after all of that exercise.. After the meal, Tenzing goes to the creak to wash himself, but before leaving, he instructs me to gather wood for the night. Because our tent was blown away, the only way to stay warm tonight is to lay with our sleeping bag near the fire. I do what Tenzing asks of me, and after half an hour I come back with two arms full of dead wood and fallen branches. When it becomes dark and millions of stars start to twinkle in the sky, Tenzing tells me an old Buddhist story:

One morning a wise old monk called four young students together. "You have recently started the teachings of Buddha, and I want to test you. The One who manages to not say anything for a week, reaches the next stage of the Buddha teachings."
On the first day the four students were gathered silently. Everything went well, but when night came and the oil lamps went weaker, one of the students was no longer able control herself and shouted to the others: "Fill your lamps with more oil!" The second student expressed his surprise that the first student had said something, to which the third replied: "I thought the assignment was not a word. What are you doing now?" "How stupid are you. I am the only one who has not said anything," boasted the fourth.
The old monk appeared and taught his four disciples right: Each judgment about another is a judgment on yourself," he said. "The secret of being able to life in peace is to not judge anyone and to let life come as it presents itself."
The students watched the teacher full of remorse and understood the message."

I think about the story and I realize that judgments aren’t always the result of listening. You make an instant picture of what is said and stick a label on it.
The monks do not judge or condemn, but accept life as it comes. They trust that life is good with them. This is another way of thinking, perhaps even a different way of life. No more fighting against whatever life brings you, but going along with it. That means I must put my ego aside more so I can do what life requires of me. My point has always been: “What do I want from life?" instead of "What does the life want of me?" After these exciting thoughts I crawl, while looking at the many stars in the sky, into my sleeping bag by the fire. I’m exhausted so I fall, despite the cold, fast asleep. It hasn’t even occurred to me to take a sleeping pill.

The next day I wake up numb and enjoying the beautiful view. Time doesn’t exist on the mountaintop. It literally seems like nature is holding her breath here, waiting for things to come. Fog is drifting around from the cliffs, as if the spirits from eternity have been looking for a place on earth. Once the early morning light comes to shine from the east over the cliffs, the fog disappears. A final piece of fog doesn’t seem able to say goodbye to the mountains and strokes, such as warm hands massaging a sore back, on the mountaintop before the sun fades it mercilessly.
In the creak, I was myself. I'm wearing the same clothes for three days now, which are clinging to my body and have a musty smell. What a contrast to less than a month ago. I was still dressed in Italian suits with black, shiny shoes.
I'm in good spirits on the way back. After about three hours of descending, we rest on a boulder. The temperature is pleasant and the air is easier to breath, so I feel that I am getting more oxygen.
Tenzing grabs the last piece of hard bread from his pack and divides it in two pieces. Normally I would not touch this old bread, but now the hunger makes sure that it tastes good. With fresh mountain water from my canteen I rinse away the old bread.
While we are eating Tenzing tells me that that he was a fourteen year old boy when he made the same trip with Phurba-lama. His prayer wheel is stored in the stupa. Then he was initiated into the secrets of the Qi that the monastery holds. Qi has completely changed his life.

After lunch we walk downhill. The fresh mountain air makes the philosopher in me awake despite the fatigue, and I think about the wise words that are here in the air. They wait patiently until they are picked up by someone. Words shape our thoughts and our feelings. It gives thoughts meaning and makes them earthy. Permanent. Words model emotions and wisdom. They can both declare war and love. They can make or break people, erecting barricades or even break down walls. Words are the finer tools of our soul and every person is the conductor of his own composition. Here in the Himalayas, different words are coming to me. These words I would never hear back at home. It is a bizarre experience. I am looking for the words that awaken the Qi force in me. But above all, I wonder what the next few days will bring.

My knees and ankle are hurting and I try to dissolve the pain through my Qi point.
After a few hours of descending, we see the monastery lying in the distance. The monastery seems to go hide in its surroundings. The strange white building is a sort of eagle's nest draped around the mountain peaks. It’s so high on the top of the world that it looks like all the rest of the civilization has disappeared. The monastery seems close, but it takes until about four o'clock before we can knock on the door. A monk opens the door and we greet him with a wai. He says nothing but lets us inside. I agree with Tenzing to meet in one hour in the dining hall. I go to my room to get a little rest. The trip to the Stupa was heavy and fatigue has made my eyelids heavy. At a quarter to six I am woken up by the temple gong, announcing that the evening meditation has begun. Darn, I overslept! Outside, it has become dusk, and with a match I light the oil lamp on the table. The smell of lamp oil fills the cold room. My ankle hurts and my feet feel heavy. I dress myself quickly and walk to the temple room where Tenzing is waiting for me at the door. The ceremonial meeting is already well underway. The monks sit on the floor mumbling. The sound of their fixed mantras is hearable throughout the entire temple.
After the hour-long meditation I am summoned by Phurba-lama. He motions me to come and stand beside him, and then the monks come by one by one with a slight greeting they walk past us. So they show their respect to me for accomplishing the difficult journey to the stupa. For the first time I really feel welcome at the monastery.

With deep respect, I look at every monk who walks by. They live here in these remote mountains, with the sole aim of achieving a higher state of consciousness. Qi helps them to reach that ultimate state of consciousness. The monks are completely free of adornment, vanity and superfluity. Their external unity seems to accentuate their united life. They are themselves and as timeless as their habitat. That also makes it impossible to estimate their age. They seem to be conserved in time, with a perpetual shelf life. The skin of their faces and hands is wiry and as dry as tanned leather, but their eyes shine as the secret of eternal youth. After the difficult journey I feel at last one of them. I lie exhausted in my bed that night and stare at the ceiling. Tenzing’s words have touched me this afternoon. What does life really want from me? Why am I here in this monastery? I’ve been struggling a few years now with the question of what the true meaning of my life here on Earth is. The more I think about it, the more I believe that every human life has a goal, and it often seems impossible for us to find out what that goal is. It is precisely that element that makes life so intriguing.

Emptying the Teacup

The next morning, at half past five, I am awakened when the temple gong is struck. I feel tired and dull-witted, and all I want to do is to turn around and go back to sleep. I do not know if it is because of the fatigue from yesterday’s descent or the warmth of my bed, but I swiftly fall asleep again, only to wake up when I hear the loud rattling of the bowls out in the hallway. Frantically, I rise up in my bed. I have missed the morning meditation session! The monks are setting out to gather their daily ration of food. Guiltily, I hope that Phurba-lama has not missed me during morning meditation. I fold my hands together and close my eyes, just as my mother taught me when I was a little boy.

Reciting the evening prayer was not only more quickly than the rush of a poem. Even praying in a crowded church at Christmas has never been more to me than reciting a poem. I am convinced that people learn to pray in difficult circumstances; I, too, have often complained of my distress during dark periods. How different is it now? This monastery seems to open my heart and it is as if I am in the presence of higher powers; that powerful presence appears easier to experience here.

Putting on a pair of jeans and a sweater, I arrive at the dining room a little later. Off to the left there is a patio, tranquil and serene, and it lets in the first rays of sunlight up on the whitewashed pillars. On a twig of a bush a small, brightly colored bird perches somewhat delicately, chirping plaintively in the stillness of the morning. I feel a mystical atmosphere here that is almost beyond human comprehension. It's as though a higher power is resting its hands on my shoulders, comforting and healing. With a more settled and tranquil mindset, I walk slowly into the dining room, hoping that Tenzing and the others have not missed me this morning!

Tenzing is sitting on the floor with his eyes closed and his legs crossed in the lotus position, meditating. Walking quietly on my toes, I attempt to sneak onto a wooden monastery bench. I hope fervently that Tenzing has not noticed my late arrival, but that hope dies quickly when I hear his voice.

"Peter, what is the main goal in the life of a monk?" Tenzing says in a loud, scolding tone that echoes across the expanse of the dining room.
I stutter, "Uh, uh…” I have underestimated the master; Tenzing has noticed my arrival effortlessly.

"The goal of every monk in this monastery is to achieve the true Buddhahood," Tenzing answers his own question. "Buddhahood means the extinction of our earthly ego, our desire, our hatred and our greedy desires. To achieve this mental state, the monks must keep to the Vinaya, which are the 227 strict rules of the monastery. The monks know the rules by heart, and if they do not follow them, there are strict measures used to correct their behavior."

Tenzing opens his eyes and he looks straight at me.

"Every morning begins at five o’clock with meditation. That also applies to you, Peter. Discipline and structure are necessary for the real, inner peace to be gained."

"Sorry," I manage to say in a quiet, abashed tone.

Embarrassed, I look down at the floor. It was not very wise of me to stay in bed.

"You cannot eat breakfast without a morning meditation. There is little time now to catch up."
I walk to the temple room, close my eyes and meditate in the quiet room until the monks return with their stuffed bowls.
Only then I go back to the dining room. On the table of the monastery lie bowls filled with food, and two monks grab tin plates from a cupboard. Everyone gets a plate. Tenzing motions me to sit next to him. The filled bowls are passed around, and every monk gets a little out of the bowl with his hands. I grab a chunk of brown bread from one of the bowls. From a cauldron every monk is poured hot tea. Silently, as always, everyone eats. It’s strange, how eating without any fuss has become a part of my life here. At home food was part of luxury and joy. It was always there and it was always too much. My belly that I was developing has now luckily disappeared. For the monks the food is limited to what is really needed. And what is shared. In harmony each is given his share.

"I'm leaving in a moment," Tenzing says, after the plates are cleared. "I will stay a while with my brother in Khare. When the time comes, I'll get you for the return to Kathmandu. Use your time here well."
Not much later I am summoned to Phurba-lama.

I say goodbye to Tenzing and follow a monk who takes me to the library, where we find Phurba-lama. The old monk is sitting at a table, studying a large, brown leather book. Without looking up, he speaks to me.

"Today we will start to transfer the Qi knowledge. Each and every student has to follow a few strict rules. The most important rule is the unconditional obedience to the master." Phurba-lama looks at me questioningly. His gaze was penetrating. I nod as a sign that I understand the message.
"In addition to obedience, you must let go of old ideas. The real strength of every man is not in his head, but in his belly," says Phurba-lama. "Listen to this story:

There was once a student who went to visit an old monk. "I would like to learn from you," said the young man to the monk. The master looked at the young man sharply, then shook his head and took a cup which he filled with tea. He did not stop at the edge of the cup, but continued to serve until the cup overflowed. "What are you doing?" asked the astonished young apprentice. If your cup is full of tea, there is no longer room for new," replied the monk. "So it is with man. If your head is full of ideas and thoughts, there is no more room for new. First make your cup with existing ideas and beliefs empty and then come back to me.''

It suddenly became quiet in the library. Phurba-lama has made his message clear and secured it with quiet force. His dark eyes peering from his sun-weathered face seem to look right through me.

"The Qi training starts with clearing your current beliefs and ideas. You must first be an emptied teacup," says Phurba-lama. "Only then can I begin the transfer of the Qi knowledge to you."

"How do I do that?" I insecurely ask.
Phurba-lama does not answer directly, but gets up and nods that I should follow. We walk down the hall to the kitchen where Phurba-lama gives a monk a brief command. Before I know it, I am stunned with a bucket of warm water and a hard scrubbing brush shoved into in my hands .

"Scrub the floor and with every twist and circle, rethink all your thoughts and beliefs, and question them," says Phurba-lama. "If you can do that, then Buddha will help you. You can count on that."
Phurba-lama walks away.

I'm haven’t got much further than my first day in the monastery. With a deep sigh, I'm on my knees again and start with the familiar short turns to scrub the stone floor.
I am severely frustrated because I have to scrub the floor again,. I had hoped that this part was over. I need to let my current beliefs go. Phurba-lama has told me so. Only then will my mind be free for new knowledge. What exactly are my beliefs? Yes, I am convinced that the sun rises every morning. There is nothing strange about that. But I am also a victim of child abuse. Money is power. I am also convinced of that. I shake my head, I stop scrubbing the floor for a minute and look up to see the golden Buddha. This way I will not move any further. Rick is an annoying guy. Thoughts of him shoot through my head as I make my regular scrubbing circles on the floor. That might be a good test. Suppose Rick is actually a nice guy, how would I see him? With all my imagination I picture myself a laughing Rick in my mind. Suddenly, there is room in my mind. Rick has certain virtues. So I can learn from his purpose. This way of thinking makes me excited. Suddenly, I see Christine for me. How is my relationship with Christine? Is it really as amazing as I always think it is? We talk a lot together, but really only about work. Do I know her deepest feelings? No, not really, I must admit. Has our relationship after fifteen years gone into a rut where you are together and speaking in a kind of code language? you do not need to say more than half a word? And I'm I really a victim of child abuse or these hard knocks made me who I am? There is movement in my mind while watching the happy golden Buddha. Temple floor begins to shine. Suddenly I feel much more freedom and openness to these entrenched beliefs which gives me ideas for discussion. It gives energy and the ability to move. Through my thoughts are rusted shut in my own fears. If you let them go, what remains is what really matters. Letting go is the magic word.

The monks have nothing and therefore there is nothing to let go of. This has been tested to the limit. They have literally stripped themselves of everything that is not necessary. In earthly terms they have nothing. But their heads are free from fear and fixed ideas. This is the real happiness. Only now I understand the mission of Phurba-lama in its whole entirety. I spend the rest of the morning polishing the kitchen floor. When I go to return my scrubbing brush and bucket before lunch, I get the order to scrub the dining room after lunch. Sighing, I put my cleaning tools in the hallway. During dinner I keep thinking about how scrubbing floors is tedious work. The wax gives me the opportunity to loosen even more ideas from my rusted mind. There a smile comes to my face. Full of energy, I'm on my knees again, working. I’m getting better at letting prejudices and thoughts go. There appears to be light at the end of the tunnel.

At four o’clock Phurba-lama enters the dining room and tells me to return my bucket and scrubbing brush. Then I walk with him to the temple that I just finished scrubbing this morning, so that I can meditate. However, it’s still difficult for me to really let go of my thoughts in order to meditate successfully... Phurba-lama sits in the lotus position next to me and gives me directions.
Close your eyes and breathe in through the Qi point."

"Where is my Qi point exactly?"

"Three flat fingers below the navel and two inches from that point inward. If you coughed, you feel the Qi point coming out. By using the Qi point you make direct contact with an infinite source of universal energy, which you can keep using. So breathe through your Qi point in the abdomen. Once you've inhaled, you will exhale through the heart. The positive energy of the breathing flow will nourish your heart with love and energy."

"Breathing through your heart sounds kind of strange to me."

"Meditation is designed to recharge your energy and let your heart fill with love," says Phurba-lama. "By focusing on the breathing flow in your body, your mind stops with all its thoughts. Your heart is Emperor and rules over your mind, but not many people know this. They learn from books that they must learn to think positively, but we know that in order to to think positively, you must get a positive feeling from your heart. That is much more powerful. You need to combine your Qi point and your heart in the breathing circle. This gives a tremendous boost to your health. What we practice in this monastery is not clearing our heads, but filling our bodies with Qi and our hearts with compassion."

"This is all new to me."
Phurba-lama looks at me and smiles.

"Filling your body with positive Qi energy and your heart with compassion is the core of our health. Therefore breathe in through your Qi point and exhale through your heart. This is the most effective way to meditate."
I close my eyes again and try to relax while sitting with my thumb against my Qi point pressed in my abdomen. I imagine that I breathe through this point and exhale through my heart. It feels uncomfortable at first and weird. But it works wonderfully! Slowly I enter the void and it starts blurring my mind. Suddenly, long-desired peace of mind is here. It looks like I'm in a trance. In my stomach creates a warm glow that slowly takes over my body. A soft and pure energy that I’ve never known
The image of my deceased mother appears in front of me. She died ten years ago after a severe illness from cancer. It’s like she’s really standing before me, encouraging me and smiling.
What a great experience! Perhaps the soul of man really has eternal life!

Life Energy

Behind the excitement is doubt. Am I too busy floating? As a stockbroker I always hated that vague, floating stuff. And now I have taken a look at another invisible world, and I must say that it’s a lot less sloppy. Phurba-lama stands up and greets me with a nod.

"You have drained your own cup with beliefs today," he says with satisfaction. "Tomorrow we start with Qi"

I walk to my room and go quietly to the window. It is already dusk. The peace that I find in this monastery is something I never find at home. Peace. That radiates from the monks. It makes my anxiety in the long run look ridiculous. Here I am forced to take it easy, but at home I never succeed at that. Anxiety, anger, doubts and questions, all seem so far away to me now. Each monk radiates calmness and certainly by their perpetual smile. The first day I did not understand that smile. It annoyed me, that is until I learned to see that they used their smiles like a mirror. When my frustration and anger were no longer reflected in their smiles, I came to rest. And that peace seems to be permanent.
What a special day.
One thing is clear for me since today: there is apparently more between heaven and earth than I've always thought.

The next morning after breakfast, I walk behind Phurba-lama to visit the library, where we go and sit opposite of each other on the ground. After the deep sleep of last night I feel rested. Phurba-lama sinks into a long prayer. Meanwhile, I look at the old thick books with leather covers, which lie on the tables. They are books that deal with ancient Eastern wisdom and books with stories about Buddha. There is so much wisdom right here, on the roof of the world, saved forever.
Just to be sure, I take out a pen and notebook that I got from my room to take notes. After the extraordinary experience of yesterday, I’m curious to see what's coming. The old monk is still in prayer, but only minutes later, Phurba-lama opens his eyes. He seems ready for it. I wait patiently for my turn with my pen ready for Phurba-lama to begin teaching me the secret. 15 minutes go by, and nothing is said. I'm starting to feel uneasy and restless and begin rocking back and forth.

"When do we start?" I ask cautiously.

"We have started," says Phurba-lama.

His answer makes me insecure. It's been a quite long time. Maybe this is a lesson in silence? I don’t know what to do with the situation. The minutes seem to last for hours, and slowly it begins to irritate me. Phurba-lama remains quiet with his characteristic smile and his friendly look.

"Don’t I need to do something?" I finally ask if we are sitting there for half an hour.

"You do not have to do anything."
I sigh deeply and am extremely irritated about the mysterious thing. What a vague happening! Phurba-lama strikes me with his eternal smile while watching me. Finally he decides to speak. "In this monastery we teach only what is asked. If there are no questions, there is nothing to learn."
Finally it becomes clear to me. The idea is that I ask questions.

"You teach me something only if I ask?"

“Indeed, yes.”

That is so different from the courses that I’ve taken before, where teachers vent their knowledge, whether the student is ready for it or not.

"If you cannot formulate the question, you will not be able to communicate knowledge to actually understand anything."
I nod understandingly. The ball is in my court, that's clear to me now. But what do I ask?
Again, it's quiet.

"In my meditation I spoke with my deceased mother ten years ago. It was as if death did not exist, right?"
This question was already into my head. This morning right after the morning meditation, I sat thinking on the patio, wondering if I really talked to my deceased mother yesterday, or if it was all in my imagination.
Phurba-lama nods thoughtfully. He pauses, as if looking for the right words.

"Indeed, the body dies but the soul does not."

"What about work?"

"What do you think?" Reflects Phurba-lama demandingly.
I shrug my shoulders and look at Phurba-lama with an “I really do not know” kind of stare.

It then seems Phurba-lama is searching for the right words.

"All people, all animals and even every piece of grass in the world is born from Qi and is part of the universe. When we die, our soul goes back to the universe. Qi is the life energy from the universe. As long as we live, Qi flows through us. The body is perishable but the soul will live forever and is filled with Qi energy. Our soul is immortal, but only by first going through mortality and leaving behind the physical part."
The words of Phurba-lama hit me. "For eternity to exist" gives me a sense of freedom, open-minded and free of heart. I can lead my life in the knowledge that it never completely ends. That makes me welcome the opportunity for new ideas and thoughts, but I welcome the opportunity for new Qi energy even more.

"Monks from the monastery may touch the souls of deceased people. In this monastery there is true spirituality. Here on the roof of the world it’s easier to make contact with the soul of a deceased loved one. That's what you've seen yesterday during meditation."
It's suddenly gets strangely quiet in the library. The words of Phurba-lama are buzzing through my head. Death does not exist, at least not for the soul.
Maybe yesterday I really did see my mother's soul. Maybe there really is life after death.

Phurba-lama says nothing and continues to look at me smilingly. The ball is back in my court again, that's clear to me.

"For years I lived in a black hole, and sometimes I didn’t even have enough energy in the morning to get out of my bed. How does the energy of people work exactly?"

"Do you have an idea?"
I think deeply, but cannot find an answer.

"I have no idea," I reply. "I felt completely extinguished, and it seemed as if my battery was completely empty. Even with my strong will, I could not accomplish the task of getting up." Phurba-lama nods and smiles understandingly.

"Your words are true," he says. "We get our life energy not only from food and oxygen, but mainly from Qi. That determines how healthy and lively we feel. Qi is universal energy, which all people can use. Imagine our universe as an ocean filled with an infinite number of liters of sparkling water. And imagine that every human being on this planet can use this universal source and connect it with a garden hose. The diameter of the tube determines how much water is flowing towards you. But with stress and tension in our lives, the hose is pinched shut. Pinching off the hose means that fewer ocean waters can flow in, but with a large open hose more water comes in. So it has to do with the Qi energy. Because of stress and tension the Qi flow becomes blocked. The supply of life energy decreases and your inner battery loses its charge. You are already tired before you get up and you are hungry for energy. If the life energy is blocked for long, you eventually get a burnout situation, or you will be seriously ill. At the time the connection to the Qi energy is restored, life energy can again flow into your body, which makes you more energetic, stronger and happier. With an open connection to the Qi energy you even have a lot of energy when on you are eighty. The next couple of days you learn to contact your Qi energy again and strengthen it. The exercises are designed to channel your energy to open, so vibrant, healthy Qi energy can flow. The Qi energy largely determines your health and vitality."

"How should I imagine this Qi energy?"
Phurba-lama pauses.

"Qi is not visible to the human eye. Yes, you can feel and experience it, but the concept is difficult to put into words. Using an example I can explain the nature of Qi.
Take a chunk of clay in mind. If you cut this chunk of clay in half very often, you come to the point that the original clay with our human eye cannot be seen anymore. Yet there is still something, because half of something can never be zero. This collection of the smallest, invisible particles is called Qi. Qi energy particles are packed in our universe. You cannot see the Qi energy, but you can feel it. People need the Qi energy to live healthy. Qi determines our life and makes you have energy for activities. If the active Qi flow becomes blocked, you feel lethargic and eventually you become ill. The stronger the Qi flow is, the more energetic you will feel and the more powerful your character becomes."

I suck in his words like a dry sponge. I’ve never really considered how it is that one person is full of life and energy, while another man doesn’t even have enough energy to get through the day.

"How do I get an active Qi flow?"
The greed for knowledge and curiosity is dripping from me.

"Every person has a Qi point. That is the contact with the universal energy source."
I find a spot under my belly button and feel the point below where the coughs come out sure enough.

"There are four simple principles you can use to open the Qi point and the flow to positively charge your body. There is then an active Qi flow in your body going on, so you feel strong and energetic again, and you will feel one with the world. "
I look longingly to the old and wise monk.

"How is my own Qi stream?"

"When you came in, it was weak. Stress and tension made sure that access to the Qi energy was blocked. If the Qi is no longer flowing well, you will feel drained, insecure and disconnected from this world. That is exactly what has happened to you last year."

In the silence that follows, I think about what he said. Suddenly it’s clear to me how much my insomnia and depression was caused by the lack of life energy. The stress has my blocked my Qi flow slowly, until I ended up in a black hole. And that should never happen to me again!

"How can I distance myself from the stress and reconnect with the Qi energy?"

"By working daily with the four Qi principles. These ensure that the optimal flow of Qi within you starts flowing. This allows your body to use positive Qi."

I look at Phurba-lama curiously. My search for a solution to my problems has been long and challenging. But now the answer is so close, it all sounds so simple.

"That is, once you learn some exercises that can strengthen your Qi flow," says Phurba-lama while he gets up and leads me to the patio of the convent. All kinds of thoughts are shooting through my head and I feel stressed about what is to come. I don’t really understand it yet. If Qi is so important to people, why then have I not heard of it until now or read anything about it? How can it be that we know so little about life energy while we are facing it every day?

"You are about to experience the power of Qi energy," says Phurba-lama when we arrive on the patio. He beckons two monks in a corner of the patio to come over. Smiling, they come towards us.

"This exercise is designed to give you the power of an active flow of Qi in your body and to experience that completely," says Phurba-lama. He asks me to stretch my right arm straight forward. The two monks are beside me and are told to bend my outstretched arm. I must keep it outstretched with all strength. I span my muscles to the limit and look with a grim face at the monks. They will not get me under! But every effort is futile. The two young monks bend, apparently without much effort and with a smile, my stretched arm, like a thin twig. I am amazed at the strength of the two monks.

"This is how many Western people go through life," says Phurba-lama. "They cramp and fight until they drop." Now put your right arm straight ahead again, but imagine that a strong flow of energy is going through your arm from your shoulder and hand back to heaven. The energy is so powerful that it will not be possible to bend your arm. You relax your arm and let your hands hang loosely. Because the energy which is flowing through your arm, this time there is no way to bend your arm."
It sounds strange to me, but I do what he tells me. The two young monks retry to bend my arm. This time they do not succeed. Even after much apparent strength, the monks not manage to bend my arm. The remarkable thing is that it takes me very little energy to keep my arm straight. I do not even feel strength force. This seems like magic! The monks let go.

"What happens here? How is this possible? "I ask confused.
Phurba-lama does not answer directly.
The golden silence is broken by a gentle smile. He nods to the two monks that they are allowed to go back to their work.

"What do you think?"
I think deeply.

"The monks used the same power both times?"
Phurba-lama nods affirmatively. "The second time they've put even more power to your arm,” he tells me.
In disbelief, I look at Phurba-lama.

"You have just experienced the power of Qi. By imagining that a rigid energy is going through your arm, you found the Qi flow is actually going on: your arm was rigid and strong. It's an exercise to experience your inner strength. If you are relaxed and feeling an active Qi flowing through your body, then you are incredibly powerful. With an active Qi flow, the stress of everyday life will go away. Being properly connected to the Qi flow means that you can achieve more in life with less energy.

An active Qi flow can be achieved by using a Qi principle. In exercise we just did you’ve already unconsciously used two Qi principles. The first Qi principle is being completely relaxed, and the second principle is that you have to let your Qi energy flow out. We will come back to these four Qi principles."

"I have already been in Qi. It seems so simple. I learned it in two minutes," I say surprised.

"Well, yes, it is that simple. Qi is the life force that dwells in every human being. In fact, we are born with it. Qi strength is our birth power! Take a look at a baby and feel how much force is in him. Babies are a huge bulk of Qi energy. That is why they have such a strong appeal to people. With an active Qi flow you get back your own native strength."

Phurba-lama nods a goodbye at me. Before he runs off, he calls the monks again. Then he gives me the order to practice with them for the rest of the day. Strangely enough, I see no resistance on the smiling faces of the two monks. They simply do what they are told. Time after time they try to bend my arm, which they don’t succeed at when I let my Qi flow from my arm. It's too bizarre to put into words!

Living in the Here and Now

After three hours, Phurba-lama returns to the patio. After the initial excitement about the Qi strength, it’s now become boring for me to constantly repeat the same exercise. We finally stop practicing at lunchtime. Yet the two monks show no boredom. I don’t notice any lack of interest or restlessness on their faces. Every time they try to bend my arm it is as though it were the first time for them. The constant drilling paid off though. I am now able to produce an active Qi flow in a fraction of a second without thinking and thereby being able to extend a rigid arm. I feel that my body is starting to tingle as a result of the energy flowing through it. What is happening to me? Just by telling myself inwardly that my Qi is flowing, I feel it as it actually occurs. To prove that I’ve learned something, I have to perform the exercise once more in the presence of Phurba-lama. When I finish, he nods to the monks, telling them wordlessly that they can continue with their work. The maintenance of the herb garden will not be finished today, I suppose, since the monks spent hours training me.

Phurba-lama looks at me in silence. It’s obviously time for me to ask another question, but no query comes easily into my mind.

"How do we go on with this?" I finally ask after a long, awkward silence.

"It's a good idea to take a long walk. The only exercise I will assign you is that during this walk you nourish your body with Qi. Imagine that the Qi is flowing outward through your arms and legs. Let your mind go and let your body’s weight rest on your Qi points. Walk without thinking: that's the challenge for the rest of the afternoon."
I look at Phurba-lama with a frown. What a vague task, I think to myself

"I do not get it!" I say to Phurba-lama
I think my ignorance may irritate Phurba-lama inwardly, but he does not show it. His smile is still as genuine as it has been in the past.

"The mind plays a far too dominant role in most people’s lives. We worry about the problems of tomorrow and worry about the mistakes of yesterday. We are actually stuck in our thinking and forget to live in the world of today.

“Yesterday is gone and tomorrow does not exist yet. If you're always busy with tomorrow and the past, you will find yourself in the prison of your own thoughts. You live in the imaginary world of your thoughts and forget to live in the reality of the here and now. The only time that really counts is the moment in the present. Qi helps you with your feelings in the moment of the here and now. You will notice that when your Qi is flowing well, you will see and experience the world more intensely."

I nod to indicate that I have understood the exercise and I walk out past the monastery’s gate. It is a sunny and pleasant day, and I start to hike on the rocky plateau on which the monastery is built. As I walk, I perform the exercise of extending a rigid arm several times and I feel the crisp, energetic feeling associated with the Qi coming back into my body

All of the fighting against stress which I have undergone in recent years seems suddenly ridiculous and unreal. While I am here in the mountains I feel like a ten-year-old boy again, running across a lawn with wide outstretched arms and bathed by the warmth of a hot summer sun. I feel like singing, and I am feeling lighthearted and carefree, without the burden of life on my shoulders. This reminds me of a summer when I stayed with my uncle in Groningen. I felt safe while I was there, far away from the angry, slapping hands of my abusive father. While I was running across my uncle’s lawn on that long-ago summer’s day, the energy flowed effortlessly through my body. I solemnly told myself to make sure that I never lose that feeling again.
Unfortunately, my life went on a very different path: From my childhood on I have always been a thinker. I'm just stuck in the inner world of my thoughts and forget to live in, as Phurba-lama says, in the here and now. That was part of the reason why I went to work in the stock market. There is something somewhat oracular about the abstract world of future stock prices. The person who can best predict trends in tomorrow's financial world will make the most money. But now I see that in my quest for big money, for recognition and success, I forgot to live in the here and now. The euphoric feeling of revelation is soon overshadowed by the thought: What am I doing?

I walk away from the trail and stroll down to a small stream, Sitting on a boulder on the edge of the stream, I stare at the swiftly-flowing crystalline water. To me, water is symbolic of letting go and releasing everything. Better said, the act of letting go is really like the flow of water. Think about it: in the shower the problems flow away from you; it is a liberating sensation. That has certainly been my experience. And water is also vital for survival as it’s at the core of most living things, and its erosive currents, tides and energy can shape even the hardiest of landscapes.

So I get up from my boulder, continue walking and try to not think. How difficult is it to actually stop the flow of your thoughts? For me it is almost impossible. Walking steadily with my eyes and concentrating on my Qi flow, I try not to think about anything. Practice makes perfect. I keep getting better and I open my eyes again. The thoughts dissolve slowly and I enjoy the silence and the beautiful view. The colors are much more intense than before. The snow-capped mountain peaks in the distance are rising against the clear blue skies and a blissful tingling sensation is flowing through my body. Finally, I find myself in the world of the here and now. Every object around me seems to be sacred, and even the rocky soil seems possessed of a delicate beauty. This is the feeling that I have been seeking for such a long time. After a half an hour, I walk back to the monastery, which seems to be bathed in a salmon shade of pink by the setting sun. Strangely, I have no conscious thoughts in my mind anymore and I simply enjoy the quiet splendor of nature around me. My depression and all of my problems seem to be miles away from me, as if I've arrived at a new world. I never realized that life can be so beautiful and intense. The power of Qi has taken possession of me.

That night I sit amidst a group of monks in a closed circle around the fire and watch the flickering yellow and red flames dance. I think of nothing and simply feel the warmth of the flames just a few feet away from me. It seems that now I'm definitely more receptive to all the beauty in this world. Now, I realize with startling clarity, Qi is the key to a deep happiness.

After sitting silently next to each other, a young monk hands me a mug of green tea. Sitting in a circle at night around a crackling campfire puts you in a mindset to tell stories. That's exactly what happens this evening:

"Do you know the story of Kirana?" an old monk who I had not met before asks me in broken English.
I shake my head and look at the elderly monk, noticing his bald head and warm, wise eyes. The man’s posture and manner of speech project a sense of wisdom and experience that commands respect. His English is not very good, but somehow I can still understand what he says.

"This monastery was built more than one thousand years ago,” the monk began “Since that time Buddhist monks have always lived here. Around the thirteenth century the abbey fell into disrepair and was abandoned. Because of the cold, harsh winters of the Himalayas above there was not much more than a ruin left of the convent and it was threatened to be forgotten by the people. That changed when, in the fifteenth century an ancient trade route between China and Europe emerged. The building was rebuilt as a monastery and inhabited again. The monks lived here in peace and the monastery was a place to sleep for travelers. This way the monastery was maintained for centuries.

“In the year 1908 there lived in this monastery a special monk who was called Kirana. This man was a famous oracle and was known for miles around. He had direct access to other dimensions which no one else could see. People came from miles and miles to the monastery to see Kirana, because through him they wanted to speak with their deceased loved ones. Kirana saw the world and the life paths of people and realized that our world was ruled by an infinite intelligence. He was curious about this all-important original source and decided to go into meditation. He climbed the Nilgiri Hill where he meditated for seven days and nights to unravel the secret of life. All that time that he meditated he did not eat or sleep. He only had a jug of water at his disposal.

“The first day nothing happened. Kirana meditated, but got no answer to his questions. The next day nothing happened either. The source of our existence did not show itself to him. The nights were cold and on the sixth day Kirana was disappointed, he gave up the meditation session and went back to the monastery. The soul of a deceased monk told him, however, to have courage and made sure he stayed put.

“In the night after the seventh day a miracle happened. Kirana fell into a deep trance and saw in his vision a group of women praying on their knees. They turned to the sun which gives us light and warmth and is the source of our existence. The sun is in Buddhism the symbol for father or the day as an opponent of the moon, which symbolizes the mother.

“Suddenly it became clear to Kirana what the great secret of life was: The origin of all is the polarity between the sun and the moon. Between these two huge sources of energy Qi is created, which is spread through the universe. Just as there is electricity between a positive and negative, Qi makes the life here on earth possible.

“In his vision the Sun opened up and told the source of everything to Kirana. The infinite intelligence finally showed itself. He learned the secret of Qi. By using Qi it is possible for everyone to be strong and energetic and for all pressures and stress in life to be released.

“The infinite source of intelligence gave Kirana the message that humanity was not ready for the power of Qi yet. Only monks who placed a prayer scroll in a holy stupa on the Nilgiri mountain would be able to understand the principles of Qi and should get the knowledge. And when the time comes, from this monastery the knowledge of Qi would be spread throughout the world and told to everyone.

“In the next years of his life Kirana would build a stupa on the Nilgiri mountain, and returned there every year to meditate until his death. The prayer scroll of Kirana is still in the stupa. The knowledge about Qi has till this day remained the secret of this monastery."

I take a deep breath and think inwardly. What a beautiful story! My prayer scroll also lies in the stupa, next to that of the monk Kirana. The story sounds too fantastic to be true, but on the other hand, the stupa does indeed exist. I have seen it with my own eyes. Today I have felt the power of Qi. The temple gong goes off with a brassy “Bong!” The monks depart and head off to their chambers for the night . I follow their example and the monks wish me a good night.
In my room, I stand by the window and watch the starry sky before I crawl into bed. Here in the Himalayas the stars are brighter than anywhere else in the world. The whole universe is filled with Qi energy. It is almost beyond comprehension! I cannot keep these insights to myself. The secret world of Qi should be knowledgeable. Too many people are now victims of the stress-filled and materialistic society that we live in. There is, I realize, an important life task waiting for me, and I’m ready for it.

The Four Qi Principles

In bed, I cannot go to sleep immediately. The day has shaken me up and deposited too many images into my mind. As I lie restlessly on my mattress, I see a vision of myself as I walk through a forest. As I walk among the lights, shadows and tall trees, I feel my father’s presence behind me. Suddenly, my father grabs me, binds me to a tree and pulls the rope tightly around me, yelling angrily all the while. I want to run, but I am powerless to break free from the rope my father has bound me with. As I struggle in vain to escape, the grin on his face gets meaner. "You're a rotten child and it serves you right," he hisses at me. My dad starts to laugh mirthlessly and mockingly, whereupon he disappears into the ground. As I stand tied to the huge tree, there is a near-total silence around me. Only the rustling of the wind as it blows through the twigs and leaves can be heard. The tight ropes which are bound tightly around my body are hurting me, and the knots are so well-done that they give me no chance to escape. I'm trapped it seems, in a dark memory of my childhood. The hours pass at the pace of a snail’s crawl and I eventually begin to feel the tension draining from my body. Relaxing and not letting my fears overwhelm me, I feel the tight ropes as they somehow dissolve, allowing me to free myself. Suddenly there is that feeling of strength and inner peace. As I become free in my vision, I fall asleep in my bed

The next morning, the temple gong sounds at the stroke of half past four. It's cold in the room, but I groggily get up out of bed. Still half asleep, I pull my jeans and a dark blue sweater on. I make my way to the temple hall; there, a few monks are sitting on the floor cradling their mantras and reciting them. The intoxicating, sweet aroma of incense fills the room. More and more monks are quietly shuffling into the temple. Their feet seem to hardly touch the floor, making it seems as though they are walking on air. I go and sit behind Phurba-lama, assuming the lotus position on the floor. The gentle murmur of the monks is pleasant to the ear as we all wait for Phurba-lama to speak.

"Breathe in through your Qi point and exhaling through your heart," says Phurba-lama without looking up. He then gives the sign for the meditation to begin, and suddenly the different mantras join together into a unified hum. Exaltedly, I sail aloft on this vibration and drift quickly into a deep meditation. Everything is calm and clear in my head, and I feel wonderful as the pulse of positive Qi flows through my body, and fills me with new energy. My body vibrates with life. The Qi energy is like a buzzing feeling deep inside of me. It makes me calm. There is no more stress in this world, just peace and happiness.

Around six o’clock in the morning, I am still in a deep trance when Phurba-lama signals that the meditation has ended. The monks silently get up silently and leave the hall to get their daily communal meal. To me, the monks – with their Spartan lifestyles and paucity of possessions – seem to live as free as the birds, which live almost care-free as they use their wings to carry them hither and yon.

As the monks leave the monastery, I walk slowly and deliberately to the patio, where the first reddish-orange rays of the morning sun announce the new day. For the first time, I have succeeded in meditation to not think about anything. You’d think that to block your own thoughts seems to be an easy mental exercise, but it is actually terribly difficult. From personal experience, I can honestly say that this certainly applies to me: Thinking too much has always had its power over me and prevented me from being conscious in the here and now. Regularly I fight with my twisted thoughts that point me to the uncertain future and the problems of yesterday. In response, I have tried to gain greater control over my life. Unfortunately, it failed. The fear had me caged and I was unhappy. Here in the monastery I finally have a taste of freedom.

After breakfast I walk with Phurba-lama to the library for my Qi teaching. We sit on the floor facing each other, and I ask the question that has been in my head all morning.

"If Qi is so important for peace and health for humans, why is this knowledge then unknown?"

"Everything has a reason," says Phurba-lama. "Qi was discovered thousands of years ago by the Chinese. They understood that there are two forces in nature, which they called Yin and Yang. Between these two forces the flow of life energy, they gave the name Chi. In China and many ancient cultures, the life energy plays indeed a important role in daily life, though sometimes they call it differently. In the Western world, however, little attention has been paid to this vital energy. The church banned everything that compromised their power and that might endanger their position. Everything was labeled as non-religious, and spirituality had to with the devil, and thus hindered the religious development of people. Western people often have no idea that something like universal life energy exists. Only in recent decades has the West has become more free in their thinking. They feel that there is something more between heaven and earth than the churches are telling them about. It is not surprising that you've never heard of Qi, even if you use it every minute of every day, because it is your life energy."

His explanation sounds plausible to me.

"And why would the time now be ripe to learn about Qi?"

"I know the position of the planets. We are slowly getting into Aquarius era. Aquarius is a water sign, which is transparent and clear. The coming decades, the wrongs in our societies will increasingly become visible. But above all it makes sure that the Aquarius era wisdom and pure truth will be known widely throughout the world. The Qi knowledge will be accessible to everyone and will help people to better withstand the stressful society that only seems to revolve around prestige, property and money."

Amazed, I listen to the old monk. Phurba-lama sees through the core of all problems in the Western world. Apparently it has more to do with the position of the planets than I ever could have imagined. Are we not all trapped in this stressful society? There must always be more done in less time. Many people are desperately looking for ways to escape the whirlwind of life.

"How do I know if an active Qi flow is going through my body?"

"You will notice that your health, your business and your life will get better. You have much Qi if you sleep well, if you feel energetic and can handle many different activities. You feel a deep connection with the environment. Actually, this is described as "feeling comfortable in your own skin.” You come into a flow. Things seem to happen naturally, and you're relaxed and powerful in life. You live from the Qi point and are more powerful and energetic, without much effort."

Phurba-lama stands up and comes to sit with me on the patio. He smiles at me.

"Stand with your feet and shoulders equally apart and bend your knees deeply. You keep your hands horizontally in a circle in front of your stomach. And you keep that position."
I do what I’m told, and after two minutes my thighs are very sore. There’s no indication that I’m allowed to get up from this uncomfortable position any time soon. So I stay at least ten minutes and suppress the pain in my legs, even though they feel like they’re on fire.

"The vitality of humans is determined by the strength in their legs. Therefore monks train their legs every day. Strong below and light in our heads is our motto. To train your health and vitality, you will have to continue to train your legs from today onward. Every day you will train legs in this way. The deeper you go through your knees, the more you train your upper legs."
With a sigh, I get up from this uncomfortable ski pose and follow the new instructions of the old monk.

"Now drop your weight into your Qi points and relax completely. Strive to, as it were, to fall through the floor. Feel the contact between your feet and the earth."

I do what he asks of me. Phurba-lama stands besides me and pushes against my chest with the palm of his hand. I feel the pressure of his hand, but remain standing effortlessly. A powerful, tingling feeling of energy is flowing through my body. I can see that he is pressing with his full force against my chest, but I stay upright without any problems.

"That's the power of Qi," says Phurba-lama.
Phurba-lama calls a monk and asks him to regularly push against my chest. I get the assignment to let my body weight sink into my Qi point and relax to not resist the pressure. Then Phurba-lama leaves us. In the morning I learn how difficult it is to relax when I’m under pressure. With the help of the monk however, I make progress. If I forget my Qi point, he pushes me over easily. But with my attention and body weight in the Qi point, I stand like a rock. Because of the practices, I literally start to feel how the positive Qi is raging through my body. It's so simple that I don’t understand why I didn’t discover Qi earlier in my life. It could have helped me a lot in hard times.

Just before lunch Phurba-lama walks back onto the patio. He nods to the monk, who gets back to work. Phurba-lama gestures me to sit on the bench. It's quiet and I know what to do.

"How does Qi work?"
Phurba-lama sits next to me and answers the question without looking at me.

"Every human being is linked with this universe. Therefore, everything in this world has the Buddha nature in it. There is no I or you, just an inclusive we. Qi connects the link between everything living on earth. Because we all come from the same source, there is no conflict. Your left hand will not fight with your right hand. From unity, the positive Qi will flow through you, and will give you inner strength and energy. Unity is the way to love, health and happiness."

"But every man is still different?" The words sound almost desperate in my mouth.

"The fact that we are different, you and I, are only illusions in our heads. In reality we are all one."
Then we are both silent while sitting on the patio. I imagine a world where everyone is connected with everyone. Peace and love win in this world image. Perhaps Phurba-lama is right and the "me and the other" is just in my head, but on a deeper level everyone is connected. I look desperately to Phurba-lama.

"But why arethere are such big differences between us?"

"Superficially there are. On a deeper level, all people are connected," says Phurba-lama. "Only by our egos, it seems that we are separated and opposed. So we go through life fighting and struggling. One can benefit of the death of another. But deep in our hearts we all feel connected and our ego is not always the best adviser."
I sigh deeply. The words are so simple and logical, but in reality it’s so difficult. How much struggle did I have doing my job? How much energy is therefore not lost? I never got to relax at work, and I was always on my guard. This is how life is. If you don’t assert yourself, who will? Of course, here on this hilltop monastery it’s easy to talk about the bank because different rules apply. There the law of the jungle counts: eat or be eaten.

Maybe I should also alter my ideas on this field as well. Where is it written that you should go through life fighting and struggling? Is it not primarily something we impose on ourselves? The daily struggle has made me numb and exhausted. Fear ruled my life. And what was the result? The fighting in my busy life has worn me out and has given me little happiness. It has led me into the black hole of depression, which I could not escape on my own.

"Teach me how I can control my fears," I ask, sounding desperate again. Phurba-lama looks at me and smiles.

"Everything appears at the right time in our lives," he says mysteriously. "Provide an active Qi stream and transform your fears into inner strength and peace. There are four Qi principles to enhance the flow of Qi. You have been introduced to these principles in the last few days.
The first principle is to put your body weight at the bottom to win the battle with gravity. Principle number two is to completely relax. Everything in your body is tensing up too much. This has the Qi flow blocked. The third principle is to put all your attention in the Qi point. The fourth and last principle is for energy to flow out, as you did yesterday with the exercise of the rigid arm. These are the four principles of Qi. They are inextricably linked. This means that if you apply one of the four principles, you will naturally feel the active Qi stream and you automatically apply the other three principles.

The first principle - keep body weight at the bottom - that means you do not fight against gravity, because there is no way you can win this struggle. Look at the waiting rooms of doctors and physiotherapists that are full of people who want help. Because of the tensions they have for years, they shrug their shoulders and entrust their back muscles. Eventually they can’t compete with gravity anymore and their body capitulates.
Keep your weight on the bottom and do not go into battle with gravity. Your body weight should be in your Qi point. This sounds easy, but it is not. Often people are unaware that their shoulders, back or buttocks are tight. With hunched shoulders day after day they go through life, until their body throws in the towel. Relax and keep the weight on the bottom. By applying this principle the Qi will flow freely through your body and it will be loaded with tingling energy. A useful tool to apply this principle is to focus on the contact area of your body with a chair, bed or floor. Your body weight should be at the bottom.

The second Qi principle - the active leisure - is linked to the first. If you are deeply relaxed, the weight of your body will automatically be at the bottom. People often do their very best to relax, yet the result is that they just cramp and their Qi power is blocked. In the Western world, where egos take over and many think in the terms of winning or losing, it is difficult to relax through exercise. Active relaxation has a strong connection with the ability to let go. Once the fighting is released, active relaxation occurs. That is our natural state of being.
Bring your attention and your body weight to the Qi point. This is the third principle. The abdomen is your center. A simple and practical way to get your attention in your Qi point is to mentally focus and imagine that you are breathing from your Qi point. This afternoon you will do some practical exercises so you can experience your Qi power.

The fourth and final principle is letting the Qi flow outward. If the life energy is not let out properly through your feet, hands and head, then there is no space for fresh Qi flow. This is the principle behind the exercise of the rigid arm. Imaginary Qi that is flowing out is very powerful. In this way, the Qi stream within you will be put into motion."
Again, we are quiet for about fifteen minutes, I am thinking about what Phurba-lama said.

"Take a little walk."
I look Phurba-lama surprised, but get up and do what he asks of me.

"Stop. While walking, you lean too far back and you stomp like an elephant. It is impossible to walk that way and relax. Stand on your toes and then slowly move back until you stand on your feet again. Leave about 70 percent of your body weight on your feet to relax and bend your knees slightly as you walk. Your arms need to hang relaxed at your sides. While walking, you gently touch the ground so that it looks like you are giving the earth a massage. Walk again, but this time in the way I told you."
I do what he says and indeed it seems like I'm lighter and it’s easier to walk this way. Incredulous, I shake my head. It's too crazy for words, but it seems as I am learning how to walk for the first time in this monastery.

Phurba-lama gets up and gives a subtle gesture for me to follow him. We leave the monastery. There is a fresh breeze and the sun is hidden behind a veil of clouds. With full concentration, I walk with my newly learned methods. It’s not easy. It feels like I'm walking like a duck. I don’t bend my knees as deep as before, so walking feels more natural. Each step massages the earth in a controlled manner. We walk on the plateau until Phurba-lama walks down the mountain until we reach a small mountain stream where we stop. I recognize this spot from yesterday.

"This stream will teach you how to cope with life," says Phurba-lama.
I look at the old monk and frown.

"I see a beautiful, flowing stream," I say with some hesitation in my voice.

"You're wrong, Peter. On a deeper level, you see life here. The stream flows from the source and flows down the mountain, as every man is born from Qi until you dissolve in Qi again. As the water in this stream, we also encounter large and small boulders on our way. The stones symbolize the misfortunes in our lives. Many people deal with obstacles and setbacks in their lives that they struggle with. You cannot remove them, because they are already in your life waiting for you. Fighting against life is pointless. Fighting hard makes us tense, and blocks our Qi flow. Battling daily with everything that does not go your way will wear you out. The continuous struggle results in a sour and frustrated person that is at the end of his or her life. The proper way of life is to be like the water in this stream. The water accepts the rocks and easily flows around it. Be like water. Accept setbacks and events that cross your path. Go along with the life energy that is flowing within you.

Life is as it comes. Everything you experience in your life has the goal to make you grow."
Nice words, but very difficult to apply in daily life.
You cannot turn back the past, and I see that now.

“Be as soft as the water in this flowing stream," says Phurba-lama.
Then we become quiet again. We both look at the sparkling water of the fast flowing stream. I've heard his words and I really listened to them, ven though I’ve always been a poor listener. I didn’t even know I that I couldn’t do it. But here, surrounded by the infinite silence, I can only listen.
Phurba-lama's instructions have given my own thoughts some space to listen to that voice within me.

I've always listened to my ego, to what my education, my upbringing or society wanted me to hear. I listened to values that promised that status and money are the highest thing you would want to achieve. I’ve gotten carried away by the flow of ambition and false promises of a seemingly good life by material wealth. But now another voice is speaking to me. The voice, deep within me, is saying that silence is not empty.

"Tomorrow begins a period of silence in the monastery," says Phurba-lama, as though he could read my mind. "From sunrise onward we are in the quiet retreat of the monastery for three full days. I want to ask you to respect it and participate in it. Use the power of silence for your own healing process. Practice the Qi principles. If you are sitting or sleeping, concentrate on your contact surface with the chair or mattress. It automatically brings your weight to the bottom and keeps the Qi flowing freely. Feel the energy flow through your feet and hands like you learned to do in the exercise of the rigid arm. Breathe from the Qi point in your abdomen. Large amounts of Qi will flow through you, and you will feel more energetic and powerful than ever."

The Magic Power from Within

We walk back to the monastery. I realize that step by step I’ve been making a transformation. The prospect of the long silence makes me uneasy though. I’ve never in my life remained quiet for three full days. Can I endure that? Silence is both beautiful, but also fearful.

During dinner, only the ticking of spoons and sliding boards is to be heard. The energy tingles through my body and I feel better than ever before. It's like I'm awoken from a deep sleep. I get some extra rice, knowing that it is my last food of the day. I miss Christine so much! She is so spontaneous, but also a soul mate to experience the world with. Immediately after dinner I walk with Phurba-lama and the two monks, Judha and Karum, to the patio.

The first exercise is simple. The two young monks are right in front of me. I need to put my arm out, and the tips of my thumb and forefinger need to touch each other in a circle. Judha has the task of getting my thumb and index finger apart.
I firmly press my thumb and forefinger together and am ready for battle. Judha gets a hold of both fingers and tries to pull them apart. I try to prevent that with all my strength, but Judha is simply much stronger. He pulls my thumb and forefinger off of each other easily.
Phurba-lama comes towards me.

"You're fighting. Think of your Qi point and relax. Now imagine that the circle between your thumb and forefinger are an unbreakable iron ring. You do not have to use any energy. You do not have to fight, because that only weakens you. An iron ring is unbreakable. And even a strong monk like Judha cannot break an iron ring."

I do what Phurba-lama says. Judha tries again to break the circle, but this time he doesn’t succeed. My thumb and forefinger remain inextricably stuck together while it hardly costs any effort. How is this possible? Is Judha fooling with me? How can it be that my thumb and forefinger are now staying together while it doesn’t cost me any energy?

"How does this work?" I ask finally.

"This exercise shows how strong your mind is," replies Phurba-lama. "When you are relaxed and you use your mind properly, you do not have to fight. Thus you can reach the goals with a minimum of energy."

"It's like magic!"
Phurba-lama smiles at me.

"The Qi strength combined with the human mind has an an incredible power. Yet many people still do not know about it. Just look at the following exercise. We call this exercise: the human bridge. Lie on your back and relax completely."
I do what I am told. Phurba-lama nods to the two monks, and Karum grabs me under my arms while Judha grabs me by my ankles. They lift me off the ground and I am put in a V-shape so that my buttocks are down between the two monks. Then they put me back on the ground and Phurba-lama comes to me.

"Now close your eyes," he commands. "Imagine that a steel rod is in your body, from your head to your tailbone. Your back is like the thick steel rod, rigid."

I close my eyes and visualize in my mind a steel rod down my spine. Judha and Karum grab me again, down to my ankles and armpits. Then they lift me up. Straight as a board I float between them. I feel an unknown relaxation going through my body. My body is straight as a board and it doesn’t cost any effort. Phurba-lama calls a passing monk towards him and gives him the task to sit down on top of me with his full weight. The monk nods meekly, stepping with one leg over me, and then sits down with his full weight on my abdomen. My body remains straight and I don’t even feel that he is sitting on me! What is happening here? The monk gets off me and Karum and Judha put me gently on the ground. I am perplexed.

"The combination of an active Qi stream and our human spirit is so strong that you do not have to fight in this life," says Phurba-lama. "This natural combination is unbeatable and everyone holds this power. We call this the magic from within."

"How does it work exactly?"

"By your Qi making contact with the universe. That gives you an incredible inner strength. This power you will have at your disposal in everyday life. You make your own reality. If you think everyone is against you, it appears that all too often to be true. With the combination of Qi and the human spirit, each man creates his own reality. If you have beliefs and you have big goals and unlimited ambition, then the world opens up for you."

Phurba-lama is suddenly quiet and folds his hands under his chin.
The words and exercises have affected me deeply. I want to be like the sparkling water in the mountain stream, and I want the Qi energy feeling flowing through my body. But above all I want that human strength that the monks are seemingly exhibiting so effortlessly.

"How do I correct my path?"
It’s a question that everyone should ask themselves, but few people actually do.Phurba-lama nods and is looking around for words, as if they are ripe fruit hanging from the trees in the mountains, ready to be picked.

"Do not follow the path of your ego and your mind, but follow the natural course, which naturally presents itself. But most of all follow your heart because your heart knows the right way. Enjoy the journey. Your heart will show you the right way."

Phurba-lama gets into the lotus position on the floor and sinks into meditation. The two young monks follow his example and with no other choice, Ito do the same. I hear the soft murmuring of the monks reciting their mantras.
I breathe through my nose and my lungs fill with fresh, crisp mountain air. This air makes my head clear. Air is never "empty", although I used to think so. Air is full of oxygen, and necessary for everything that lives on earth. I realize that now more than ever. My chest goes up and down. Here in this place, the air is so pure that there are no dirt particles in it at all. The snow on the mountaintops clarified the air. It penetrates into all of my cells. Air is the divine breath that breathes life into us, and it’s the part that keeps birds in the air and makes balloons rise. But above all, air is a transport system for the thoughts in your mind. Through the air, I connect with Christine on the other side of the world.

I listen to the Ohm mantra, which repeated over and over by the monks. It puts me in a trance and makes the philosopher in me come back up.
From childhood on I’ve had to fight to survive. My survival strategy was to adapt myself to others. My dad literally hit this into me. I have always done what my environment wanted of me and not what I wanted to do. I am always the one who takes a step aside. I always avoid the real confrontation. My confidence in the world is seriously damaged, and I want to be independent of everything and everyone. This has led to a desire for money and fame. Fortunately, I’ve been blessed with a good brain, and that gave me a big head start. I got through college easily, and I graduated cum laude. That piece of paper was the basis for my success at the bank. My environment sees me in my black sports car as a successful and capable businessman, but if they only knew the truth.
Appearances bring me no satisfaction. This puppet theater can’t last forever. Inwardly I'm deflated severely depressed. It’s the price I’ve had to pay for not choosing for myself, and instead choosing the life that others wanted to see me in.

Yet in the monastery, I see through the madness of my daily busy life, where there even isn’t any time to pee. I lived for my insatiable lust for money and power, and in the process, I lost myself as a person. Only here I feel a confident man has come back into the world. The strength from within gives me a tingling sensation and blissfulness. The monks of the monastery can be trusted and I can relax. A man doesn’t need anything else. The murmur of the monks stops and a deep calm peace fills the patio. A light breeze brushes over my face and I surrender to the sizzling energy. Phurba-lama stands up and subtly gestures that I should follow him.

"Time for the next Qi exercise," he says. "Stand up straight and let your arms hang relaxed by your side."

Judha and Karum walk over and stand on each side of me.

"Focus your attention on your forehead."
I concentrate on the point between my eyes. Judha and Karum grab me each under one armpit and easily lift me about eight inches off the ground.

"Concentrate your attention on your Qi points and relax your body."
Judha and Karum place me back on the ground, then immediately try to lift me again But they do not succeed. It’s like I weight a thousand poinds, and they can no longer lift me. But for me it costs me absolutely no strength. Again, I’m puzzled by the inner strength that I apparently possess.

"How can this be?"

Phurba-lama smiles while looking for the right words.

"People who focus on their thinking emphasize what is in their heads instead of their bellies.. They are therefore unstable and lose contact with their Qi. With putting the focus in your head you're not able to withstand, and you are quickly out of balance. It can be different. By putting your attention and your body weight in your Qi point, there is a tremendous strength from within. You will be physically and mentally stable and have a good balance."
Why have I never learned this trouble-free way of life before? I’m convinced that my life would have been so much easier. I would have handled the problems of my youth very differently. I didn’t have to fight like I did, and the "black hole" wouldn’t have ended up in my personal dictionary. With a bow, Judha and Karum say their goodbyes.

"Remember, that tomorrow it will be quiet for three days in the monastery," says Phurba-lama.

"You have now enough new insights so that you can put them to good use these next couple of days."
With this command, the old monk leaves me alone on the patio. I drop down on the stone bench and Christine appears in my mind. God, I miss her! She has told me several times that I should focus more on my instincts, but I’ve never listened to any of it. In my pursuit of prestige, that idea just didn’t seem right. As a robot, I did my work. And here I come to different insights. The real Peter is not hard and unforgiving, but gentle and vulnerable. In my heart there is a temple that houses the real Peter. In my earliest childhood, this temple was tightly locked, and my mind had me fooled. "Sense and sensitivity is for softies" was always my belief. Only now I see how incredibly powerful these feelings are. It's time for me to open the temple.

Back in my room, I lose myself in my thoughts as I lie in bed. Today I made a great leap forward in my quest for inner strength and happiness. Apparently there are lessons you have to take so you can reflect on yourself, and to be able to receive the wise words of Phurba-lama. What a transformation! The greatest discovery of my life is that of inner strength.
Now I understand that people fears may be the immense power that dwells within us. But by denying or hiding this force, we do ourselves and this world a lot of harm.

It's already completely dark when I have a cup of hot tea at the fireplace in the dining room. Strangely enough, for the first time I am not hungry tonight even though it’s been 12 hours since my last meal. My spiritual food for thought is enough to stop my physical hunger.
How many people try to fill their spiritual emptiness with food? That is probably the reason why more than half of all Western people are overweight. Eating for emotional cushioning is not the solution. Qi is! I can tell by my loose fitting pants that my body already has lost a lot of pounds.
In the dining room I go and sit on the wooden bench beside some monks and stare at the fire. The monks are laughing and speaking in the local dialect to each other. Although I can’t understand anything, I experience the relaxed atmosphere. For them, tomorrow is a three-day silent retreat.

The monks rise with respect when Phurba-lama shuffles into the dining hall. He comes to sit next to me, and waits patiently until he gets offered a cup of tea. He does not speak, but he still says a lot this way. It’s almost like Phurba-lama is communicating with us from a higher dimension. Staring at the flames of the fire, I get lost in my thoughts.
I've learned to listen to my deepest self, and to give my inner voice some space. There is a wisdom that goes beyond knowledge: the wisdom of life. I discovered, not by learning, but by letting go. My stay in the monastery has made me free, free from the burden of judging and condemning. But also free from the past that was sticking to me like a black tar. The question "Why am I here?" which I have always asked myself, is therefore less important. Life simply unfolds itself. Here and there monks are getting up to go to sleep.
From tomorrow on it will be silent for three days. The prospect of such a long time without a word doesn’t appeal to me. But, do I have a choice? No, and I will live up to what is expected of me. Not much later I stand by the window in my room. The sky sparkles, and hundreds of millions of stars tell me how insignificant man is compared to the infinite universe. The entire day was a series of intense experiences. I crawl into bed happily. Using one of the Qi principles, I try to become one with the hard mattress made of straw. The boundary between my body and the mattress fades and I am sinking into the mattress. I sink into a deep sleep. From tomorrow on, the silence reigns.

The Power of Silence

After hearing of the temple gong, I am cheerful and get up easily. Most of the monks are already in the temple hall. I go and sit down in a corner, and get into the lotus posture. It's dead quiet. Even the characteristic murmur is missing. After Phurba-lama gives the sign, I concentrate on my breathing and my Qi point. By putting all my attention into my breathing, the emerging thoughts have no chance to pop into my head. My head becomes calm and clear rather quickly. The healing power of silence does its job, and any remaining tension and stress disappears from my body. Sitting like a mountain and Qi flowing like water is the motto of the monks here.

At 6 p.m. Phurba-lama gives the sign that meditation is over, and I rise with a tingling, energetic body. Why did I never start meditating before? Somehow I knew that it would be good for me, but the necessary discipline to follow through was lacking. Daily meditation would have saved me from so much harm. The depression wouldn’t have been so powerful.
The monks do what they always do after their morning meditation. They take their bowls and hit the road. That gives me the opportunity to sit on the patio to enjoy the sunlight. Man doesn’t need much more than this. I'm happier and more at ease here than at home with all my money, my sports car and my status. Around half past 7 a.m. the next day, we sit in silence at the table. Today there’s no education or new exercises. I must train myself.
After breakfast I start to train my upper legs for 10 minutes. In ski position with a straight back and eyes closed, I train until my thighs are sore. Then I practice one by on all four of the Qi principles. Only the rushing wind can be heard, and it remains this way the rest of the day. Who knows the power of silence?
Frankly, my silence grabs me by the throat later that morning. It's amazing how you get used to talking. I want to say something, cry if necessary, but there is no way. Each monk adheres faithfully to the rules. Thus hour after hour goes by. The Qi exercises have a beneficial effect on my body. My hands tingle and I feel stronger than ever. On the other hand, the work is starting to bore me. After lunch I walk to the kitchen and make a sign to the monk that I need a bucket and a hard scrubbing brush. Entirely by myself, I start that afternoon by scrubbing the temple floor. I want to give something back for all the knowledge and wisdom that they have taught me. The self-centeredness gradually transforms into a “we” feeling. With short turns, I scrub the stone floor until it shines in the afternoon light. The hard work gives me a satisfying feeling.

Silence is something special. In the Netherlands we barely know it. There are only a few places where it’s really quiet. Silence is especially effective. The silence works as a battery and it’s recharging me. The energy buzzes and hums through my body, and in my ears I hear a strange rushing sound. Despite the lack of words, I can communicate flawlessly with the monks here. There is apparently a higher dimension in which we can communicate. This dimension can only be accessed if you are extremely quiet. What potential and force comes with being quiet!
The next two days I spend entirely in silence. The strong need to talk is gone. I meditate now for up to three to four times a day, and each time I learn more and more about myself. I’m actually a beautiful person, although I have always unconsciously denied it. Once you experience that, you don’t have to scream for attention anymore. How different it was for me just one month ago. I filled my days by telling people who I was and more importantly, what I had reached. My words, clothes, cars and behavior was focused entirely on showing my success. And there was always the urge to prove myself. Here I can be who I really am. And that feels really good.
In silence I repeat my Qi exercises. When I sit or sleep, I concentrate on the contact surface with the chair or bed. The dominant thinking is slowly losing ground. I feel my body buzzing because of the Qi, and it relaxes me. It really brings me in the here and now, and stops the continuous stream of thoughts. So it is that simple!

When I walk or meditate, I visualize that my arms are fire hoses, making the energy flow out. Qi gives me a feeling of energy, a light feeling and a peaceful feeling, and the prevailing silence does the rest.
Slowly it dawns on me that the world does not stop at the horizon. There is another dimension where the Buddhist monks have access to: the world of Qi, and the discovery of the real power in myself.
I am peeled off layer by layer. Deeper and deeper I come into my own self. During an intense meditation on the third day of silence, the light reaches into my heart. Suddenly it looks like someone has turned on the light switch. The light, that was so deep within me has been freed and is looking for its way out.
Unfortunately there are no mirrors in the monastery, and I’m sure I have a white glow around me today. It feels like I am dancing. My body tingles constantly. It’s the feeling that so many writers and poets have described, and what people are looking for. Life is rich and so much nicer than I ever imagined.
I can’t really share this experience with anyone, but that doesn’t matter to me. This feeling is hard to put into words anyway. I hold onto this blissful feeling until the end of the retreat. It almost feels like a desecration when the silence is broken. But Peter will be changed forever. That I know for sure!

The next morning it is still quiet during the morning prayer of five a.m. Only when Phurba-lama gives the sign, magically from one moment to the next, the murmur of the monks comes back. I squeeze my eyes together and grab in a reflex my ears. After three days of intense silence, the gurgling sounds are like screaming in my ears. Only now I see how much we are stunned by the noise, often without realizing it. This is an experience that Christine should also experience. How can I ever tell her about this? True silence is indescribable, but must be intensely felt. I concentrate on my breathing and Qi, and my thoughts dissolve into a white light.

Intuition, a Godly Sense

After breakfast Phurba-lama beckons me to him and tells me to follow him and an unknown monk. The monk is carrying an oil lamp with him. Where are we going? A voice deep inside tells me that after the warm blanket of silence retreat, this might not be too fun. Phurba-lama tells me to bring warm clothes and a full water bottle with me. Dressed in a sweater and with a water bottle hanging from my waist, I curiously walk behind two monks. After a steep climb of more than two hours, it becomes apparent why the monk is carrying an oil lamp. We face the entrance of a dark cave. The opening is narrow and is partially covered by low bushes. This isn’t the type of place where you would go inside for fun. I start to nervously fidget with my water bottle.

Phurba-lama lights the oil lamp and we walk inside. It's damp and dark in the cave, and I try to be as close as possible to Phurba-lama in order to stay in the glow of the burning oil lamp. There's a chill going through me. What exactly is the purpose of this walk?
Suddenly I shrink back terrified. In the light of the lantern, I see the shadow of a giant spider, like a silhouette projected on the wall.
I decide to stay as close as possible to the oil lamp. The fire will frighten the animals away, or at least I hope so.

"Where are we going?"

I hear fear in my voice. I totally forget about the Qi principles.
Phurba-lama doesn’t answer, but instead steps further into the cave. We penetrate deeper into the cave, and after about twenty minutes we walk into a large open space. The light from the lamp reflects off the damp walls. Large stalactites are hanging over us, and point at us like spears.
Phurba-lama stops in the middle of the open space and turns. Bats fly right past our heads. This isn’t funny anymore. The looming stalactites make me think of hell. It feels as though an unseen hand slowly squeezes my throat.

"Are we going back?" I ask hopefully.
Phurba-lama ignores my question.

"Intuition is a gift that every man has," Phurba-lama begins to speak. His words echo in the hollow cave. "Intuition is the language of our feelings and helps people discover their life. By trusting your instincts, you can follow the path that was meant for you. We believe in the universe, where besides all Qi energy, all wisdom and knowledge is stored. With our intuitive ability we have access to this universal source of wisdom. If you listen carefully to your feelings, you know what your life choices are correct. Intuition is clear and has no doubt to it. It clearly is a great thing to know that every person can access it. A highly developed capacity for intuition is a property of a wise man. By our intuition, we have access to knowledge and we come to better decisions in our daily lives. Intuition is essential to discovering your life path. Therefore we give you now the opportunity to test it in this cave. The purpose of this assignment is that you will use your intuition. Every man has a clear intuition since birth. Unfortunately, this is often stifled by the power of the mind and ego. Science tells us that our intuition is something vague and impossible to prove.
In the monastery we teach the monks to trust their intuition. Therefore you, like any other monk, has to do the cave test."

"What is the cave test?" I ask with a small voice.

"You stay here and we will leave the cave with our oil lamp. We will wait at the monastery for your return. Without light and knowledge of the cave, you must use your intuition to find your way back. Logic won’t be of much use to you here. You will then continue to wander and you will not find the exit. We will not go looking for you until tomorrow morning.
There is a way, another road that is leading to the exit. Use your heart and your intuition to find this path. That is the main advice I can give you."

Phurba-lama and monk walk away and I see the light weaken, and eventually it becomes completely dark. I hold my breath in the darkness. The bats fly around my head while this black world oppresses me. The earth is so dark I cannot see anything. Fortunately I'm not really claustrophobic, but nevertheless my heart is pounding in my throat!

I force myself to keep my composure and to think logically. How do I get out of this cave? Which direction should I take? I look in the direction where I saw the light disappear. That's the way to go. First, I take my water bottle and drink a few sips from it. Isn’t this really crazy? How do I prevent my head from running into a point of a stalactite? I sigh deeply and take a few steps forward with my hands stretched out. After a few steps, I completely lost my sense of direction. Am I still going in the right direction? Each step in the inky darkness makes me more doubtful. Logic has no purpose here and only by relying on my intuition, I think I can find the exit. At least that’s the advice Phurba-lama has given me. Fear takes a hold of me. A full day and night in this damp and dark cave filled with spiders and bats, does not appeal to me. I close my eyes and try to get in touch with my feelings. My intuition is clearly telling me a direction so I decide to follow it. With my arms protectively in front of me, I shuffle step by step in the direction indicated. My watch is unfortunately still in the monastery, so I have no sense of time. It seems like I spend hours wandering around in the dark cave. Suddenly I feel a clammy, wet wall in front of me. Which way should I go now? Left or right? While I am walking I feel around with my right hand. I shuffle slowly, but an opening is nowhere to be found. Perhaps I better go left. I highly doubt it, but just before I want to go left I feel a hole in the wall, thank God. Going right is apparently the right direction. Step by step I shuffle on. I stumble back against a wall. A feeling of panic comes up in me. This really is not fun anymore. Why did Phurba-lama do this to me? I walk back into a wall and notice that it is a dead end. Damn, which way should I go now? Then panic strikes. My breath is panting and my chest goes up and down quickly. The fear dominates my thoughts. I urge myself to calm down. Unfortunately, incoherent thoughts shoot through my head. That feeling, the one I so clearly remember from my depressive episodes, come back. Although the monks taught me a lot about the emotion of fear, it is back in full force. Fear is like a Pavlovian response. It is the lack of confidence, a snake pit of negativity, which I can fall right back into - if I'm not careful.

Desperately I shuffle a few steps back cautiously, as time is ticking. Should I turn left or right? My sense of orientation is totally lost in this pitch-black cave. I really have no idea where I am and where I need to go. A total state of disorientation takes possession of me. With all my strength I curse the cave experiment. Twenty-four hours is a damn long time to be in this damp, black cave. I sigh deeply as I tell myself again to calm down. What have I learned in the past few days? I can at least begin to let the Qi flow within me.
I press my Qi point and feel the relaxation coming back into my body. If I focus on the contact area between my feet and the rocky soil, I feel the Qi flow in my body starting back up. Like magic, that inner peace is there again and connects with the things around me. The fear and panic fade away. Suddenly I realize that I still have to get out of the cave.

With my Qi power, I shuffle step by step along the damp wall to the front. There seems to be magic going on here, and I’m being forced in the right direction. As time crawls by, so do I, step by step. I stop and wait for my feeling to give me a clear direction. I walk on at a slow pace along the wall, hopefully towards the exit. Oddly enough I feel like a dangerous rock is near me, so I continue with even more caution in order to avoid the rock. My sense of time is completely gone, but feeling of calmness and strength is pleasant. In the distance I can make out a dash of light. Almost euphoric I shout I scream, “ I did it! “ On just my feelings and senses alone, I found the exit in the dark. With the light as a beacon, make my way to the exit of the cave. The bright light hurts my eyes, but satisfied, I sniff the fresh mountain air into my lungs. I have passed the great test.

Looking at the position of the sun, I can tell it’s already in the afternoon. I walk to a nearby stream, where I sit down quietly and refresh myself. Then I walk the path that leads to the monastery.
It is at least three o’clock when I arrive back. To my surprise, Phurba-lama himself opens the gate with a smile. Maybe I am imagining it, but I have a strong feeling that he has been on the lookout, waiting for my arrival.

"A big compliment," says Phurba-lama. "Only through your intuition, you managed to get out the cave. More than once we had to go find disillusioned monks that couldn’t get out of the cave even after a full day.”
There's a surprise waiting for me, but first there is a hot tub! A wooden tub filled with warm water. I scrub myself clean from top to bottom. And against the rules of the monastery, I get a late afternoon meal: rice with vegetable curry. It seems like the food at the monastery is tastier and more nutritious than at home.
After dinner I go back to my room, sit on my bed and grab a book. I read the book in one sitting. The title “From Ratio to Feeling" couldn’t be any more effective than today.

At night I have a cup of tea. Some monks are busy talking to each other. I cannot follow their local dialect, but you can tell about the way they talk that they haven’t spoken for three days. Around eight, Phurba-lama enters the dining room. He sits beside me.

"How does our intuition work?" I ask.
The old wise monk smiles at me.

"All my life I have studied the ancient, sacred Buddhist scriptures. The more I study, the more it leads to only one conclusion: we know very little about how life works. The truth is too extensive for such a man to understand. Fortunately there is a higher dimension in which wisdom is stored. This dimension extends much further than we can imagine in our minds. To access this realm of pure knowledge and wisdom, every man has been given the capacity of intuition. Intuition is our divine sense. Through our intuition we have the ability to access these higher dimensions."

"How do I develop my intuition better?"

"With an active Qi stream and trust."
Phurba-lama takes his last sip of tea and leaves the dining room.

I go to bed but can’t. My thoughts almost automatically go to Christine. I miss her!
I’ll be back at home soon and I’ll be a different man. How will she respond? I’m a man who has left behind depressive episodes and who has discovered the philosopher in himself. A man who has found his inner strength and can get in touch with his feelings.
The words of Phurba-lama intrigue me immensely. Is there really an invisible dimension where all knowledge and wisdom is stored? Maybe there is even a big intelligence that determines everyone's path in life. Sighing, I turn on my side. On the roof of the world I must be careful that I don’t get too gloomy. Qi is easy to experience. Everything else is new for me and unable to be proven. Yet today it was my intuition that led me out of the cave. There remains only one conclusion: there is more between heaven and earth. In the monastery this knowledge is revealed as if it’s an exciting children’s book. My eyelids finally start to get heavy and I fall into a deep sleep.

The Principle of Not Fighting

The next morning, after meditation and breakfast, I am taken back to the patio. Phurba-lama is standing in front of me smiling.

"Hit me!"

"Excuse me?"
I look at the old monk quizzically. I'm certainly not going to beat a peaceful old monk!

"Hit me! Now!” It sounds loudly on the patio.
Reluctantly I pull my arm back, ready to strike him in full. With the first blow, I fall, without even realizing it, on the ground.

"What happened?" I ask surprised, as I get up.

"I moved along with your strength and it led you to the ground," says Phurba-lama. "This exercise is designed to clarify a simple principle. It is the principle of non-fighting. If someone attacks you, your immediate reaction is to fight back and to use your strength. Much more effective is to use the force applied and then to reverse it. In your case I used the force to get you on the ground. This applies not only to physical violence, but also in an altercation or mental pressure. First bend the force that is applied and led it into your desired direction.
Bending takes much less energy than fighting, to which we are mostly lower ourselves."
I think back to that big arena of egos in my workplace, to all the management meetings, and my now former employer. Who can be the best, most convincing? I was also busy with this game, and it took a lot of energy out of me. Too often we based our decision on logical arguments that I felt was wrong. The game of proving you are right was frustrating and exhausting. The principle of non-fighting appeals to me. Only then do you really listen and reinforce each other.

Phurba-lama calls a monk and gives him the instruction to hit me. It's my job to guide the blow and then to bend it around. Why would you fight when it is so much more effective to guide and bend around? The principle of non- fighting is more than obvious to me. Phurba-lama goes to the library and leaves me with the monk on the patio.
For hours I practice. Numerous punches are fired at me. I'm getting faster and more adept as different punches come my way, and I feel the Qi rush through my body. The monk now puts his full weight in and as soon as I step aside, I guide his arm around me. A fight is pointless. The energy that I would normally waste on fighting could be put to better use on something else. A lot of useless energy is wasted by people who are fighting against everything and everyone.

After another hour, the monk nods me goodbye. He probably has a sore arm from all the times he had to hit me.
I was left with no further instructions, so I spent the afternoon training the four Qi principles. Simple as they seem, it is a daunting task.

The evening rolls around and I sit around the fire in the dining room with a group of monks. The kettle is hanging over the fire to boil water for tea. Phurba-lama enters the dining room. The principle of non-fighting today is still haunting my mind. Why does our world to seem to fall about because of people who do horrible things to each other? Why do people think they have to fight for their position and their existence? After a sip of hot tea, I decide to ask the Phurba-lama.

"Why do so many people struggle through life rather than work together?"
The monks talking around the fire become quiet while Phurba-lama seems to be looking for the right words.

"The biggest blockade for working together and happiness in life is deeply rooted in us. That is our ego. One man has an ego that is inflated and which dominants, and the other man has a small and modest ego. But everyone has problems with their ego. Your ego causes anxiety and makes you want to fight. For your ego, there is no "we", just "I" and the "other.”
The ego tries to convince us that we do not need Qi to be powerful and energetic. Your ego is a big opponent of the Qi."

"Why is that?" I ask Phurba-lama.

"Ego is not benefited by a strong man. Ego means "I" which is literally the opposite of "Qi". Strong people are characterized by a weak ego, while the weaker humans among us just have a strong ego. Those are the hard shouters, where you quickly see through. They are focused on fighting and do everything to defend their achievements. We see them around us. If you look through the thin edge of the egos, you will see that there is little left of this seemingly strong person. The real power lies in Qi, and not your ego. Your ego causes anxiety."

The monk precisely hits the element which appeals to me. The monks are modest and are focused on collaboration and sharing. If they even have an ego, it is small and modest, an attitude that’s 180 degrees different than that of the world I come from.
I’ve noticed too that my ego has gotten smaller throughout my time here. That's why humans use Qi. Your inner strength is less harmful than your ego. How can people fight while they are looking for happiness? We seem to do very strange things sometimes.

Phurba-lama takes a last sip of hot tea and I look at him. Is it not wonderful to have so much wisdom at your disposal? For all the complexities and problems that this world knows, Phurba-lama is still able to see the essence of life. Because of modesty, he is a real example for me. After listening to Phurba-lama’s wise words, I head to my room to sleep. The fact that I don’t have to go through my life fighting gives me peace. I do not have to fight to defend my position. Eventually life will forgive, or otherwise I’d have never ended up in this monastery.
Again, I experienced another special day that I could have never predicted. I close my eyes and relax in the serene environment.

The Goal of Life

The next morning the gong echoes through the monastery at the stroke of half past four. The fixed daily rhythm has a beneficial effect on my mind. No stress or own initiative, but I slip into the predictable structure of the monastic life.
I get dressed and walk in a relaxed way to the temple. The words of Phurba-lama have hit me yesterday. The light and love within myself are becoming dominant and ego disappears. That's how I so deeply want myself to be.

I front of the golden Buddha I close my eyes after Phurba-lama has given the sign to start meditating. The Qi breathing goes naturally now and I turn off my thoughts. Around me the monks are mumbling mantras and are praying. It is quiet in my head and I feel a brightness as an open sky in a chilly winter night. A happy feeling is slowly going through my body. The short period I spend in this monastery has brought me more than the last three years of my life, which was just expensive treatment in the Netherlands. Everything I tried to turn my depression and insomnia around, but it was never more than just a short-term relief.

The powerful, energetic feeling hangs around Phurba-lama as the meditation ends. The monks are on their way to get their daily food and for me this is the moment to go to the patio to enjoy the early sunlight. Time passes and the first monks return with their filled bowls. Over the fire in the dining room they are preparing a sort of mesh. The food in the monastery is sober and monotonous, but I can taste purity of food, so I'm rather satisfied and lacking the "appetite".
After breakfast, I talk to Phurba-lama: "Why does no one talk at dinner?"

"We focus our attention on only one activity at a time," says Phurba-lama. "This makes the food tastier and more nutritious and we can do with less food. Especially here in the mountains, where winter food is scarce, it is important for survival."

For me is the silence during breakfast an awkward situation. I see the meal as a time to socialize and discuss the experiences of the day with each other, but I am starting to get used more and more to the silence while eating. In fact, it gives me peace. I do not continuously have to be in an animated mood and can enjoy the taste of the food. By eating with full attention, even mesh is tastier than I ever imagined before.

After breakfast I walk back to the patio of the monastery with Phurba-lama. I have a feeling he likes me, but that he deliberately does not show me. The early morning sun pierces through the morning mist and gently warms up and the patio. We sit down on the ground. Everything around us seems adapted to peace here, high in the Himalayas.
Now it is strangely Phurba-lama, who takes the floor: "You know your life purpose?"
I am scared out of my mind. It is a question of just four words that is so difficult to answer. This is the kind of question over which entire tribes have stumbled. Frankly, I have been so self involved for the last year, that there was no room for this vital question.

"Maybe there is a reason why I am in this monastery," I reply with some doubt in my voice.
Phurba-lama smiles at me.

"There is a messenger needed, who will spread the Qi knowledge in the world. It is time for the monastery to share its secret with others. The Qi knowledge, just like the fluttering prayer flags, should be distributed to the furthest corners of the world. Humanity is ready. Never in history has there been so much hatred and greed in the world as there is today. The gap between rich and poor is constantly increasing, and people draw from the earth to satisfy their own greed. Raw materials are wasted and people are only thinking about themselves. Mother Earth has enough for all his daily needs, but not for the satisfaction of all his greed. If no action is taken, the more the earth will suffer and terrible wars will break out, and the quality of life and the last bit of water at stake. This world really needs a change, and Qi has a lot to contribute. Qi makes people feel happy and energized without the desire for more, more and more again. Qi lets insatiable egos shrink and provides links with this world. You do not have to fight or to profile yourself at the expense of others. The happiness of every man lies deep within."
I swallow. This looks like a play with me in the leading role. Why was I chosen? Should I play the hero? My life has not been that brilliant.

"This task is too heavy for me."

"Every journey begins with taking the first step. You're not here for nothing. The distribution of the Qi knowledge is your life. You are chosen through life, whether you like it or not. It is time for humanity to wake up. The industry makes people believe that with a lot of money, power and stuff they will find happiness. So people are struggling and fighting throughout the day: a beautiful house, the next promotion or a new car. After years of hard work and stress the disillusion will follow. The reached results do not satisfy us. The real happiness is in man himself and Qi is the key to this inner strength and energy. Go back to the western world where people do not know the Qi teaching you have learned here in the monastery. Every person has a right to happiness."

I think about Phurba-lama's words. The words still echo in my mind ... There is a job for me for the rest of my life. I feel it in every fiber of my body. This is what life has to offer me. There is a reason my life went like this. I too have been a part of the rat race of life. The madness of greed and dualistic thinking, my life has been determined so far. But I have been fortunate to be woken up by Phurba-lama. The severe depression and insomnia have made me aware that things should change. How different are the lives of so many people? They are absorbed by the daily bustle. They have no time to think about happiness from within. Eventually they all cave under the pressure of their great careers, busy social life and material greed. Luckily I have the key to this problem and I can also help them with Qi. But how do I do that?

"How can I bring all these people in contact with Qi?"

"By simply helping people to be happy," says Phurba-lama.
I am astonished. This is beyond me. I do not get it.

"The first step starts with teaching people how Qi can freely flow through their bodies and how it helps them."

Phurba-lama gets up and leaves the patio. I stay with an strange feeling in my stomach. Although Phurba-lama taught me a lot about the emotion "fear" it is suddenly back. It has something familiar. Fear of sinking again into the uncertainty, thus confirming the negative. Fear is like a Pavlovian response.
I get up and walk laps on the patio. Many times the same thought goes through my mind. I'm not the kind of guru who should proclaim the power of Qi to the world. It's much easier for people to talk about the stock market than about life itself. Why does life present me with such a task?

I decide to take a short walk to get everything straight. I grew up in the financial world and not as a old and dusty guru type. How exactly can I transfer the Qi knowledge to others?
I walk on the sparsely vegetated plateau, while the wind brushes past my face. The fresh mountain air makes my head clear. I'm sitting on a rock and look at the monastery. The monks live here where life is not asking unreasonable demands of them, except to be like life itself. There are no laws that are called time or money, no greed and no ego. Their knowledge of Qi has stripped me of all unnecessary things, which I had previously thought I could not do without. Here it is not necessary. It begins slowly to dawn on me why I've been depressed for so long. I always thought it was because of my dad hitting me, that all joy in life was beaten out of me. But here I come to the clear understanding that it has mainly to do with how I saw my life. Working in the stock market has cost me a lot of energy every single day. Not the work itself, but the fact that it does not work for me, I was exhausted and drained. What gives me energy and where do my real talents lie? Is it the right thing for me to spread the knowledge of Qi?

Phurba-lama had a reason to give me this assignment, but I have no idea what to do. I shake my head and sigh deeply while I touch my Qi point for a moment. Immediately I feel relaxed and suddenly hear a little bird whistle. When I look up again at the white Himalayan peaks against the blue sky, I feel a blissful feeling coming over me. Mountains remain intriguing to me. High above the earthly concerns and the people, they find their spot near the higher powers. Now I'll have to stop worrying and start doing what life is handing to me. I have already come far: until recently I never imagined that the distribution of Qi knowledge would fulfill my life purpose.

I enjoy the true beauty around me. I literally feel the nourishing power of nature and a happy feeling overwhelms me. What is the value for money and material things compared to the beauty of nature? What does a man really need? How different life is in the Netherlands! Because of the stress and perpetual haste, I have had no eye for the real beauty of nature. I do not recall that I ever looked at a beautiful blooming flower or a bird singing while sitting on the branch of a tree. The world was in my mind transformed into an amorphous gray mass. I did not live in the here and now, but in the imaginary world of my thoughts.

After half hour of enjoying nature, I walk back to the monastery. On top of the monastery white flags are waving in the wind as if to say, the wind takes and distributes it Qi knowledge to the remotest corners of this world. In the distance I see two monks coming with large pieces of wood on their shoulders.
The temple gong sounds from the monastery. It's time to go to the dining room for the last morning meal.

The Eternity of Our Soul

After dinner, I lie on my bed and turn on my cell phone. I'd love to talk to Christine, but of course there is no signal. An irrepressible sense of irritation comes up in me. Actually, I've had it with all of this! All this talk about Qi, meditating, eating the simple and pure food and living based on your feelings is getting to me.. The world seems to be perfect and that's what annoys me.
I long for Christine and especially for my old life, despite how bad it sometimes was. I miss hanging out in the pub until it’s late in the evening with friends, and even just complaining to them about my job and relationship. I miss the excitement of stock trading and the sounds of my sports car. All these things seem so far away, as if it were happening on another planet. Why is life so awfully perfect here?

I'm cranky, so I get up and walk through the monastery to the library, where Phurba-lama is studying in an old Buddhist scripture in peace.

"I’ve had enough," I sigh. “It is time to go home."
Phurba-lama smiles, but is silent as a grave, what irritates me even more.

"Everything has been taken away from me and I am losing more and more of my old familiar life."
Phurba-lama keeps looking at me with a smile.

"What do you want?" He asks.

"I don’t know exactly," I answered desperately. "Maybe my old life back and to at least see Christine again"

"Do not oppose change," says Phurba-lama. "Be like the flowing water in the mountain stream. The flowing water follows its path and cannot go back to where it once was. The past is something you cannot get anything from, and there is nothing more you can add. You lose precious energy when you resist change. Your life as it was will never come back. You smashed a path where there is no turning back. It's time to pick up your true life's work."

"Help me! I just miss my Christine and my old and familiar life."
Suddenly the tears are there. Oddly, I've never heard myself cry. For years I have not cried. I actually stopped crying during early childhood.

Phurba-lama looks at me with compassion. Oddly enough the crying relieves me, and the discomfort disappears. A drowsy feeling takes over. The tears have washed away my anxiety. The eruption did me good. Finally, there is room for my feelings. I have the physical sensation that my heart is opening. A warm glow flows from my heart, throughout my body and fills each cell. For the first time in my life I know what writers and poets call pure love. I look at all the old books around me. There is so much wisdom in such a small and quiet space.

“It’s so calm and peaceful in this monastery."

"The world does not only know quiet and peace, but also hatred and stress," says Phurba-lama. A scale has two sides. Besides a huge amount of positive energy, there are also negative forces in our world. These two opposing forces are broadly balanced. The Chinese discovered the Yin and Yang forces in the universe thousands of years ago. Everything has a yin and yang energy that strives for balance.

A world without negative and destructive forces is a utopia. Even in this monastery there are negative energies that we have to deal with.

"How do I get more positivity in my life?"

"Therefore it is important that you withdraw the good forces from the universe. If you have an active Qi stream, you'll automatically pull in the positive forces and shut out the negative and destructive forces. This helps you with the right attitude to life. Besides, having an active Qi stream helps you to attract positivity, but also when you give love and compassion, and you help others and do not hurt them you automatically pull the good energy from the universe. Qi flows through you and this helps with your personal growth and achieving a meaningful life."

Phurba-lama gets up and walks to the patio.

"Go stand in the archer position," says Phurba-lama.

"I don’t know that position."

"Stand with your feet and shoulders equally apart, and then put your right foot a half step forward. Then bend your knees lightly, so that you sit low. By gently rocking back and forth, find the exact center in this position. Place your body weight in your Qi points. Feel - with your feet - the contact with the earth. Each monk is trained in perfecting this position."
Phurba-lama comes to me and presses against my sternum. I let the force exert through my legs into the ground, and stand as strong as a house.

"This is pure power. Try to get a little deeper down. This trains your thigh muscles and stimulates the flow of Qi in your body. I'll see you in 15 minutes outside the gate. Until then, remain in this position."
Without looking back, Phurba-lama walks away.
My thigh muscles start to burn quickly, but I refuse to give up. I look at my watch and see that I still have 11 minutes to go. I bite my lips. I feel my thigh muscles shaking. A few minutes later, something snaps in me, as if a blockage is broken. Slowly I feel a tremendous power flowing through my body. The shaking stops in my legs, and contact with the universe through my Qi is finally established. The Qi is flowing through my body, and it cleans and feeds all my cells. When the 15 minutes are finally up, I come up from the archer position and walk stiffly to the gate of the monastery. My legs feel heavy and sore.

"The rest of the afternoon you will be chopping wood," says Phurba-lama while standing at the gate beside a large pile of wood. "This wood you will split into convenient sizes of logs for the fireplace. Get everything out that is still bothering you. The past is a has been, and there is nothing you can add or change. You must learn to let the past go."
Surprised, I look at the old monk. I don’t understand, but I don’t dare to ask anything. Meekly, I pick up the rusty axe that’s standing upright in a large log, and place the first block of wood on the heel plate. At home we have a fireplace too, so I know the techniques of chopping wood. Phurba-lama goes into the monastery without saying anything else to me.
I’m soon lost in the wood chopping, and sweat is running down my forehead. It seems that the beatings w I received as a child can finally be left behind. I can knock them away. "My past has been" echoes with every hit through my head, like a mantra. After a few hours, the pile of wood is chopped to pieces, and I am panting.. I hear my gasping breath. It’s the breath that runs through my life like a main theme. My breath from birth until now flows through me with the power of Qi. For a long time, this life energy in me was blocked. Oddly enough, I realize only now that life energy flows through me and where my strengths lie. It's like I’m starting to see the essence of energy, thanks to the monastery..

I put the axe in a piece of wood and walk into the kitchen. I fill a mug full of clear water from the drinking water bucket. I greedily drink it in one gulp, emptying the mug. I refill my mug, then go into the kitchen and sit down on a long wooden table. It’s time to give my philosophical thoughts some room.
Why have I just been given the task to spread the Qi knowledge? Maybe it’s a sign from above that I have to do the kind of work that feeds my energy instead of a job that takes all my energy away from me. The knowledge I have gained in this monastery is much too important to withhold from the rest of the world. Qi can help people become happier and more energetic. I myself am living proof! Slowly the situation becomes clearer for me. By writing a book about Qi, I can spread the knowledge widely. Maybe I should go further and train people. That could be my contribution to a better world! Everyone must have access to the Qi knowledge. A happy and energetic life is the right of every human being. Qi helps people to withstand the hectic pace of daily life better. With Qi you are like the quiet eye of a hurricane in a world of change. There are so many people that can barely cope with the pressures of modern society. Slowly, they get squeezed like a lemon. What is the quality of life if it is being controlled by stress? I can recall from my immediate environment at least ten victims of stress. My mind is made up. I will not stop until everyone knows about Qi!

That evening we sit in a circle near the fire. I’ve been looking forward to this night with the monks for the entire afternoon. The conversations around the fire have one thing in common: they are always about something that has meaning. I buzz with interest. A young monk hangs a kettle over the fire. The wooden crate next to the fire is full of fresh, chopped logs done by me. After the water comes to the boil, the young monk makes tea. I sit next Phurba-lama and feel relaxed.
My thoughts wander to Christine. What exactly is her role in life?

"Does everyone a specific task in life?"
Phurba-lama nods affirmatively.

"What about work?"
Phurba-lama stares thoughtfully into the fire.

"Every person has a Buddhist nature within himself. Fish swim, birds fly, and people are meant to create. Every man returns to earth again several times, each time in a different body. After death the body decomposes, but the soul continues to exist forever. Whenever the soul returns to earth again it will be in a different body, in another place and with another task. This is the way our soul develops over many lifetimes. All the experiences of previous lives you carry with you. There are people with an old and wise soul, but also people who have much to learn. Every life is meant to further develop your soul, until you finally reach the enlightened Buddhahood. When you reach that point, you don’t come back to earth. You'll be in another dimension.
Also, you are here on earth to do what will further develop your soul. And the very activities that help achieve this give you energy and passion. During life you’ll discover more and more what is right for you and what is not.
To define our mission, we have been given a conscious mind and the ability to visualize. We are the only creatures on earth who can actually achieve our dreams."

Phurba-lama takes a sip of tea. That gives me the opportunity to process his words in my head and think them over. Do I actually believe in reincarnation? I've never really thought about it. In the hectic everyday life and my quest for even more, I’ve lost myself. I've never really been in a situation before where I really had to think life over so clearly. Christine has raised the issue to me before, but again, I’ve never really thought about it. I would always change the subject and talk about something else, unable to determine my own position towards reincarnation.

"How can a man know what his goal in life is?" I ask.

"You cannot come up with it, but you should experience it. In the course of your life it will occur to you. Practically every old human being can tell you the main theme of his or her life without any difficulty. Events that mark your life and its main theme are easily to point out and to recognize after it has happened."

"Just like there is a reason why I am in this convent?"

"Indeed. You know perfectly well that you are not here by accident."
I have to agree with Phurba-lama. My visit to the monastery is no pre-conceived, but it just simply came my way.

Phurba-lama puts down his empty mug beside him. He gets up and comes to stand right behind me. The talking of the monks dies down. The monks look at me curiously.

"You will experience something special. Listen well. There is no "I" or "you.” That is a great illusion that our ego has maintained. There is only one intelligence, and we are all part of it. You're connected with everything around you from the blue of the sky, the monks in this monastery, and even your father is as much a part of you as your arms and legs. The boundary between yourself and what you think you see around you is actually an illusion and comes from your ego. In reality, you're connected to everything around you. You are a part of me and I'm part of you. Now close your eyes and let all thoughts dissolve."

I do what Phurba-lama says and hear him rubbing his hands behind me. It feels hot on my neck. This pleasant warmth is spreading through my whole body. It’s going to my head, then to my shoulders and then through my spine to my tailbone. Then I seem to sink into a whirlpool and disappear.

"Try to relax more deeply," I hear Phurba-lama said vaguely in the distance.
Then something happens to me that I will never forget in my life. In the distance I hear a noise coming towards me, and I can’t figure out what it is. At first it looks like a swarm of bees. Slowly it approaches me. While the sound swells, I feel a gentle hum going through me. It's like my cells are awakened from a deep sleep.

As the sound increases more and more, the sensational feeling in my body gets stronger. The soft hum turns into an intense vibration that loads every cell in my body with energy. A feeling of immense love and a connection with everything around me overwhelms me. A powerful flow of energy rises through my spine in an upwards motion. A broad spectrum of the most amazing colors flashes through my mind. Gold, silver red, yellow and blue fire, appearing in their clearest form, are in my inner eye. After a few minutes the sound and light intensity start to decrease. A delightful sense of ecstasy stays within me. I know that this is the feeling that I have been looking for all my life. The feeling of pure love and happiness, somewhere deep within that I recognize myself.

"Open your eyes, Peter," said Phurba-lama.
Half in a trance I open my eyes, while my body is still tingling. The monks look at me and smile. They probably know exactly what I felt.

"How wonderful!" I stammer.

"I let you experience what it feels like when Qi is at its maximum power raging through your body."

Now I know for sure. The happiness that we all seek is within ourselves. It’s in the degree to which we are able to let the Qi energy flow through our body, and I’m deeply impressed. I will never forget this feeling. It’s the primal force of human beings, something we all have with us at birth, but unfortunately most of us have forgotten about it. "True happiness lies deep inside" sounds like a cliché, but it is nonetheless true. Qi power is fully clear to me now, and that’s the key to true happiness.

Homesick

As I lay in bed earlier than usual tonight, I think of the last few weeks in the monastery. The days crawled by like a slow flowing river. I have now lost count, but surely at least 40 days have went by. I've adapted to the slow and predictable daily routine of the monks, and in the recent weeks I’ve slowly transformed. Every day I faithfully do my Qi exercises for hours, and I control the four principles as if they have always have been a part of me. Meditation is now a big part of my life, and it has enriched me in a special way. Through deep meditation, I met a new dimension: the invisible world around us, which largely determines our lives. Indeed, there is more between heaven and earth than I ever knew. My thigh muscles have become strong by practicing the archer, and I feel more energetic, healthier and more vibrant than I ever knew was possible. The common thread in my life comes more and more to the surface. The Qi knowledge and wisdom must not remain only inside this monastery. It's my job to spread the Qi knowledge. The world is ready! I’m determined to write a book about Qi so that the knowledge can be translated into every language. For me it is now crystal clear. Spreading the Qi knowledge is the reason for my existence.

I look back on my period in the monastery. The monastic life is not only meditation and Qi training, but there is also work to be done daily. Scrubbing floors is my main task. Apparently, I have made quite an impression with that on my first day. I make sure that all religious floors shine like polished stone. It gives me great satisfaction, and I see it as my contribution to the community. You can also find me in the kitchen where I help with preparing the food. The contact with the monks is warm and open. The first day they looked at me and didn’t know what to expect, but eventually they accepted me as one of them. Although I still can’t speak their language, I can communicate with them. With gestures and with a feeling of their intentions, I understand what they want to make clear.

Phurba-lama distances himself more and more from me as a tutor. I have to choose my own path to embed the Qi knowledge within me. On one hand I find it a pity, because I like Phurba-lama a lot, but on the other hand, he is releasing me into freedom and giving me the responsibility to integrate Qi into my own life. At home, I know I won’t be able to rely on Phurba-lama anymore.
One evening I ask him if I could go back home.

"It's time to go, when the time has come," he replied cryptically.
I had no other choice but to leave it at that, and I’ve lost all sense of time by now anyway. I live mainly in the moment of the here and now, and I am taking my time. I have no idea what day it is. There is also no point in keeping track of the day if you live in the here and now. I think back to last week. It must be Tuesday or Wednesday, and I have been busy with scrubbing the floor in the library when Phurba-lama arrives.

"Bring that bucket back to the kitchen," he said, "and then come straight to the gate."
After the bucket has been put away in the kitchen, curiously I walk to the gate.
Phurba-lama is already waiting for me there. He is holding a crooked wooden cane in his hand, and without saying anything he walks through the gate and stands outside. I have no other choice but to follow him. We walk across the barren plateau to where the monastery is built on. The weather is beautiful today, and a fresh breeze is blowing gently on my face. In the distance I see a monk waiting for us. We walk straight towards the point where he’s standing. The bearded Phurba-lama motions me to stop with a short gesture.

"You will experience the power of the human spirit today," said Phurba-lama, while the monk puts a thick piece of wood on two large boulders. It’s a two inch thick wooden board, wobbling between the boulders.

"Get on your knees in front of the board and break it in two.”
I look anxiously at the old monk. Kung Fu was never my specialty, and breaking that board in half is not going to work, I thought.

"Break it in half," Phurba-lama says again.
Carefully I get down in front of the board and put my arm up hesitantly. Then my right hand lands with a blow on the wood.. The board did not budge, and I cry out in pain.

"It can’t," I moaned as I grabbed my aching hand. Phurba-lama is standing next to me with a smile on his face.

"This exercise is designed to teach you about the power of your mind," he says. "With your mind you can create the future. Without the help of your spirit you cannot breakthis board in half.”

The old monk closed his eyes, raised his hand and hits right through the piece of wood. My mouth falls open. Phurba-lama stands up and motions to the monk to lay a new board front of me.

"Close your eyes and imagine that you already have hit this board in two pieces. Put your focus on a point below the shelf and keep your attention fixed there. Now open your eyes and break the board in half."
I focused on a point behind the thick board and with a quick slap, the plank shattered under my hand while. I stand astonished that at contact, I felt no pain.
Surprised, I looked at Phurba-lama. The realization that I am using the power of my mind is more powerful than I ever could have imagined.. The power of the human spirit is extremely strong. With a holy faith, it’s possible to spread the Qi knowledge around the world. I get up from my bed and open a window. The stars do their best tonight to shine and sparkle in an otherwise pitch black sky. My thoughts go back to last week.

After I had shattered the board, Phurba-lama asked me to follow him. At the end of the plateau, we descended down for about one kilometer to a hidden and overgrown side path. Suddenly we faced a large, open cavern. My mouth fell open. The cave was completely covered with a bright green moss species, which almost seemed to give off light. Along the sides of the cave, water is dripping down, it is dripping on the floor of the cave, gathering in a small watering hole with a diameter of about five meters. The color of the water was magical azure, as clear as I have ever seen in my life. The image has made a lasting impression on me. How beautiful is nature! It is one of the most extraordinary places I ever visited. There is a certain magic, which I intuitively felt. I closed my eyes and listened to the dripping water. Slowly my thoughts fade and a thick fog came into my mind with a sharp picture slowly emerging. I saw myself sitting behind a large, rectangular wooden table. Judging from my face, I had to be quite a few years older. The peace, strength and wisdom shone from me more than it does today. Qi had apparently transformed me.

With the many books around me, I surmised that this place was a library or a bookstore. On the table lay a pile of books titled "Qi". Several people crowded around the table, patiently waiting for me to write a personal note in their book. The colors and images in the vision were so clear that I just knew they were predicting something. The vision made it more than obvious to me: it is my goal in life to spread the Qi knowledge. The dream gave me direction for the next few years of my life. The predictive cave had done its job.

Restless, I walk by the window back to my bed. The vision will not let me go. Qi is the solution to our stressful society. People can use Qi to rediscover their inner peace and feel more energetic and vital. I get back to my thoughts. The days after visiting the cave, I thought more about home. I intuitively feel that my stay here in the monastery is now coming to an end. I miss Christine and long to resume my life. My hands itch to use Qi and to get started. It is time to go home. Those are my last thoughts before I fall into a deep sleep.
As with every morning, this morning begins with meditation. After the monks leave with their bowls to go on the road, I sit on the bench on the patio.
In the distance I see the dawn break. A fire-red sun appears on the horizon, and it promises to be a beautiful day. I plan on training my archer position and my thigh muscles. Unexpectedly Phurba-lama comes up behind me on the patio.

"The time has almost come to leave," says Phurba-lama, and then walks off to the library. His words ring in my head for a while. I get up from the archer stand and walk straight to my room. I'll see Christine again! God, I have missed her!

I start packing in a hurry, but then realize that I don’t know when I leave. I take my picture of Christine and kiss her on her mouth. Will she recognize me? How is she doing?
I look around my sober, but now familiar chamber. The regular monastic life is about to be replaced with the busy life in Netherlands. I'm going to miss Phurba-lama and the monks terribly. The peace and tranquility that reigns here will be replaced by the noises of Amsterdam. The squeaking trams will replace the temple gong. But the desire for Christine dominates my thoughts.

During breakfast no one speaks, but I have to bite my lip not to ask exactly when I can leave. Immediately after breakfast Phurba-lama leaves the dining room without saying anything. Moments later I walk with the familiar bucket and scrubbing brush through the monastery for my daily work. On the patio the monks are doing their daily Qi exercises. They move slowly and gracefully. I keep looking at them, awed by their low seating and full body control. They radiate an unprecedented vitality and energy. I don’t see Phurba-lama throughout the day still don’t know anything about my departure.

That night I habitually slip into the dining room for a cup of tea. My breath catches as Phurba-lama enters the dining room. He moves beside me and waits patiently for a cup of tea.

"I want to give you something," says Phurba-lama before I can ask him anything.
Curiously, I look at him.

"The art of life is finding the right balance. There must be a balance between tension and relaxation, between movement and rest, and between giving and taking. Find a balance between the different aspects of your life. Although the principle of balance may sound simple, that is right where many people make mistakes. They drown in their work, and even on holiday they keep on working. The balance between work and spare time gets lost. In the long run it does damage to them, sometimes irreversible damage. Many heart attack or burn-outs could have been prevented if the victim with a busy job took some periods of relaxation. There needs to be a good balance between busy time and relaxation. Being under pressure for a long time undermines the Qi flow. Eventually, the body takes revenge."

"Why are you telling me this?" I ask the old monk.
Phurba-lama looks at me with his perpetual smile.

"When you arrived at this monastery, the balance was completely lost. You did not know the word "giving" anymore and was only concerned with "taking" your material needs to realize and satisfy your ego. Your Qi flow was completely blocked. Though you are rich materially, you were spiritually poor and lifeless. Your health was in serious danger and you were in a downward spiral.
We started to teach you to give back to others. That's why you had to scrub floors for days. By using meditation and Qi, the balance in your life is restored. In the Netherlands you must keep this balance so you won’t end up in that black hole again."
Phurba-lama is right. My life consisted mainly of work and more work, even at the expense of my health and my relationship with Christine. The continuous tension eventually made my body shut down. The Qi stream was blocked. My system was beaten and hollow, and I had been suffering from insomnia and depression. It was just a matter of time before I had a fatal heart attack or a serious illness.

Here in the monastery, I woke up and I told myself to never let it get this far again. Tenzing told me how Phurba-lama lives in silence a few weeks a year. During this period he says he only prays and communicates with sign language or writing. How beneficial such a period would be for the modern man in our hectic world!

"Have you ever heard of the wu-wei principle?" Phurba-lama asks.
I shake my head.

"The wu-wei principle means acting in silence. You wait silently and patiently, until a solution to a problem comes up. When the question arises you are quiet, until an answer comes up. You act not from direct action, but wait in silence, until a flash of inspiration comes. Especially in the silence, the answers to our most complex issues can be found. It is precisely this wisdom that has value in the modern Western world. There are people overwhelmed with noise and bustle, making them unable to hear the answers and that is why they cannot hear them anymore. Take more moments of silence in your daily life. Hear what the silence has to tell you. She is a powerful helper. The answers to your questions should come automatically."
I nod. Who in the western world still knows real silence? Who will have the time to really listen to what life has to say? We are stuck in the labyrinth of our minds. Dominated by thinking, our feelings are pushed to the background and because of this we’ve lost our contact with Qi, and no longer have access to pure knowledge and wisdom.

The whole evening the question has been on my lips, and now I see the chance for me to ask Phurba-lama: "When can I go home?"

"When the time comes," says Phurba-lama. Then he finishes his tea and gets up.
I fall asleep disappointed that night. It cannot be too much longer before I see Christine again and hold her in my arms.

The Path of Light and Love

When I enter the candlelit temple the next morning, the monks are sitting in a row on the floor. I go and sit next to them and wait for Phurba-lama to give the sign to start meditating. With the tip of my right index finger I touch my Qi point and close my eyes. I listen to my breath, which ensures that it is quiet in my head. The power of silence gives me a huge energy boost. A warm and bright feeling sweeps over me. My thoughts are slient, and I am completely in the here and now. I feel the deep, pure strength in me. Before I know it, the morning ends.

This morning I go with the monks to a village nearby. As we approach the small farming village, I hear a scream from one of the houses. It appears to be a signal to other villagers to warn that the monks are coming with their bowls. When we pass the first house, the occupants come walking out with food. With a respectful bow to the farmers, the monks stop and get food in their bowl. I watch the spectacle from a distance. This is a respectful way to deal with each other. Up here in the Himalayas is no "I" or "you", only "we".
How different is it in Amsterdam, where everyone apparently thinks of him or herself primarily. But egocentric thinking doesn’t make people happy. Only here I understand that we are all connected, and in that is the foundation of happiness. I feel grateful to be able to share and give to others.

After the monks make a bow and say their goodbyes, we walk back to the monastery. The fresh morning air is beneficial and I inhale the mountain scent deep into my lungs.
In the dining room quite a surprise is waiting. At the table, dressed in a brown wool sweater, I see Tenzing. He smiles at me.

"You’ve come to get me," I say.
Tenzing nods affirmatively.

"Today is your last day here in the monastery. Tomorrow morning we will return to Kathmandu. "
Oddly enough I fight back my tears. Back home. Finally! I long for Christine and my friends. On the other hand, I must say goodbye to the monks, who are dear to me now. Phurba Lama gives the sign that we can eat. Silently with my full attention I eat the rice. I can live here in the monastery with much less food, without feeling hungry at all.
I’ve noticed that my pants have become baggier in the past weeks. I’ve lost some considerable weight. The belly that was starting to show is gone and my stomach is as tight as ever.

After dinner, I walk back to the patio with Phurba-lama and Tenzing. Today is the last day I can still ask Phurba-lama questions.. We sit on the ground silently with our eyes closed. A question that’s been bubbling in me comes up.

"What is the great secret of life?"
Phurba-lama does not answer. He keeps his eyes closed. So we stay in silence. The minutes crawl by slowly. Why doesn’t he answer me?
I peek at the old monk, but he makes no move or effort to answer my question. After 15minutes of waiting I decide to fall back into meditation.
Everything comes at the right time, not a second too soon and not a second too late, Phurba-lama once told me. My body relaxes and my hands start to tingle slightly from the Qi. I feel the Qi buzzing through my body, which again causes feelings of happiness.

The relaxation has a beneficial effect on my mind. It is intensely quiet around me and it seems like I’ve stepped into another world. My thoughts are clear and I can hear all sorts of sounds I didn’t used to hear. In the distance I hear a bird whistle and even the sound of my own breathing. I am deeply aware of the moment in the here and now. I slip away in the sense of connection with everything around me. Another half hour passes before Phurba-lama speaks.
"In silence you can observe the global web of life. Right there all the answers to your questions are stored," says Phurba-lama.
I open my eyes and look at the smiling, weathered face of the great Phurba-lama.

"You ask me about the great secret of life?" Phurba Lama asks me.

"Yes!"

"What did you just experience in meditation?"
I search frantically in my memory.

"I felt deeply connected to the rest of the world. It was as if my senses were working better. I heard a bird singing beautifully and it seemed as if the surroundings had become a part of me. It was as if there is no separation any more, but that everything came from one source."

"Right, you just figured out the answer to your question. The secret of a happy life lies in the ability to live in the here and now. Then the Qi will flow through you and you are in full communication with the rest of the world. In the here and now you will experience the divine power that resides in every human being. That is our natural state of being and is the great secret of life."
A soft, cool breeze brushes past my face, as if a higher power was stroking me. A feeling of intense happiness is flowing through my body. This is what paradise is like.

"This feeling of happiness is not just reserved for you. Every person has the right to feel intensely happy and connected. Qi is the key to achieving this. Therefore it is your task to teach the four Qi principles to people. The revitalization of the Qi flow is a healing process. We are all connected to each other and every person has the right to live a happy life. That is your goal in life."

After his words, Phurba-Lama resumes into a silent prayer. Tenzing gives me a gentle tap on my shoulder and motions me to follow him. At the gate he speaks to me.

"I want to take you on your last day in the monastery to a special place, where you have stunning views of the Himalayas. It is an inspiring and holy place, where you feel the power of life and can experience it in a very intense way. As a small boy I discovered this place and I have spent many hours there."
His words make me curious. We walk out of the gate and are now on the plateau. The white flags are fluttering in the strong wind. At the end of the plateau we hit the steep mountain path, and we walk towards the sacred mountain of Nilgiri. It seems to me to that the climb doesn’t take any energy. In the last few weeks I became so familiar with the Qi principles, that they are automatically a part of my life. Even without the Qi exercises, the Qi flows through me. Qi gives me a tremendous power, as if a turbo engine is turned on inside of me. This is of course the great secret of the Sherpas, who live high in the Himalayas. During the trip to the monastery I was already surprised how the finely built Sherpas carried the large forest branches or straw effortlessly up the mountain. These mountain people have never lost the access to Qi, but in many Western countries we lost that knowledge long ago. These people live in a pure and natural way. They have no destructive stress which so many of us do in the western world. The Qi life energy flows through them, without blockages. Maybe they are, despite their limited material in wealth, way happier than we are. They have a continuous tingling feeling because of Qi energy flowing through their bodies and are still aware of the beauty of nature. The powerful thinking has not overshadowed their feelings yet.

After an hour of climbing, we reach our destination, and sit on a boulder. Tenzing has made his promise true. The view is fantastic. We look out over the white peaks of the Himalayas, which rise majestically into the sky, far above the hustle of the everyday world. The snow on the Himalayan giants is in contrast with the cobalt blue sky. The snowy peaks make it seem that everything around us is being reduced to their essence. I enjoy the beautiful view to the fullest. How beautiful the world is if you can consciously experience it. I feel strongly connected to the beauty around me, which seems almost scary. Unconsciously, I wished for these feeling of intense happiness all my life.

We sit there an hour long in silence and enjoy the enchanting view. This image will always be in my heart. Tenzing breaks the virginal and pure silence.

"Today is your last day in the monastery. What for centuries was hidden, here, high in the mountains, will now be told to mankind. By an unrestricted flow of Qi you can find a deep kind of happiness. The stronger your Qi is developed, the greater your impact on the environment will be. That is why you have been here in the monastery for so long. It has drenched your body and your mind in Qi. You should use this Qi knowledge to bring love and relief to the world."

Tenzing looks ahead and says nothing. His words are scattered by the wind, but are forever stored in my head. I think about my own life. As a successful stockbroker, I always thought I could influence life myself. My desire for status and wealth was boundless. It took me to the edge of the abyss. Material prosperity on the one hand, but spiritual poverty on the other hand.
In the monastery, I woke up and have seen the world of spiritual wealth. The real happiness is in you. The monks have taught me that.

"Tomorrow I bring you back to Kathmandu," says Tenzing. "Then you will start your real mission. You were born to bring people light and love. This is no easy task. It will be a challenge to keep your Qi flowing in the city, between the noise and all the people. Maybe you will fall back into your old pattern of thinking and fighting. Then you need to remember this moment in this place. Enjoy the beauty of nature, let the Qi flow and show people the path of light and love."

The words penetrate deep into my mind. I have to teach people about the path of light and love and how to follow it, and that’s no easy task. Yet with the knowledge of Qi I can face this heavy feat. Tenzing gets up and I follow him. Once more, I look at the majestic views, and then turn around and descend to the monastery. It's about 11 o’clock and the sun is high in the sky. We need to hurry so that we will be inside before lunch.

It’s early afternoon and I pack my stuff. The last hours in the convent are harder than I thought they would be. I walk into the kitchen to get a bucket of soapy water and a scrubbing brush. The rest of the afternoon I spend scrubbing the temple floor for the last time. And I bow one more time before the golden Buddha. Many aspects of Buddhism appeal to me. Above all, I realize that there exists a universal love, where all religions are based on. It’s a love that spreads the force of Qi over all the people. That is why the concept of Qi touches people so deeply. While scrubbing I think of my life in Amsterdam. After a big five weeks in the monastery, I miss running errands or just sitting on a terrace drinking a cup of cappuccino. It seems weird that I miss these regular, daily activities so much now. I wonder how Christine is doing and what has happened in the world while I was gone. My thoughts disappear with the regular circular movements of my brush.
I look at my results when I’m finished, and I’m pleased. The floor is shining. Buddha is satisfied. This is my way to express gratitude for all that I have received in the monastery.

That night I walk through the cloister into the dining room, for the last cup of tea. I am feeling sad. My feeling is telling me that I never will return to this monastery and that makes me sadder. Like the flowing water in a mountain stream, my life goes on. The monastic life will be the turning point in my life.
The upcoming departure makes me frown. I will probably never see Phurba-lama again. In my room I thought about a parting gift. I couldn’t think of anything, until my eyes fell on my watch. I inherited it from my grandfather. It has a great emotional value for me and I have always been very careful with it. Although the watch is old and out of fashion, it still works well. Despite my nostalgia, I have made my decision. What is worth more than to get your life back? The watch together with a farewell letter is safely stowed in my pocket.

I silently stare into the fire, while Phurba-lama and Tenzing are drinking their tea together and chatting. I realize that I’ve gotten used to the life here. The silence, the nourishing Qi, but also the friendly monks made it easy. I'll miss them all terribly. A monk throws two more pieces of wood on the fire. The wood crackles and I look at the wildly slamming flames. Phurba-lama taps me on my shoulder. It is the first time he has touched me.

"On this last night I want to give you something. You have the talent to touch people at a level deeper than words. And if you know how to touch people, you can also help spread the path of light and love. You only need one candle to light hundreds of millions of other candles and to put the world on fire. Every person has the ability to be just that one candle. I have transferred the Qi knowledge to you, so you can translate it to the Western world. Let love and wisdom echo in the words which you will proclaim the message with."

Phurba-lama hands me a black leather rope with a knot in it. Hanging from it is a gold coin with a hole in the middle.

"This coin will assist you in spreading the knowledge. Every time you touch the coin, you are reminded of Qi."
Phurba-lama ties the leather string around my neck and I make a deep bow to show my respect and gratitude towards him.
When Phurba-lama is done speaking, I take the floor. The monks look at me curiously and smile.

"My master Phurba-lama," I say in a respectful tone, "the time in the monastery was for me the most important period of my life. I have learned the truth about myself and I will spread the Qi principles throughout the world. As a symbolic gesture to show my thanks I give you this watch. The watch symbolizes for me the most important insight that I have learned: namely, to life with active Qi stream in the here and now."
Phurba-lama takes the watch with a slight bend.

"If you look at this watch, Peter, you can only see the time right now. Any time in the past is gone and all future time is yet to come. Only in the here and now does the real life exist. In every new second you can make a new choice for an energetic life filled with Qi. Thanks you for your precious gift. I know this watch means a lot to you."
I hand Tenzing my farewell letter. He translates the English text in the local language and all the monks around the fire are listening intently to the words spoken:

From now on, my life is my own.
I use the remaining time
to do what I have come to do here on earth:
To fulfill my life’s mission.

The desire for peace and happiness brought me here,
high in the mountains, close to the divine power.

I can live my life as intended,
and teach the world about light and love.
I am deeply grateful for what you have given me.
Qi is the way I have to go.

Peter Blokland
October 1999

Many of the monks nod at me approvingly. My time in the monastery is over and a new life awaits me. I want to get up and to go to my room to get some sleep, but Phurba-lama gestures for me to sit down again.

"In an ancient monastery high in the mountains," he begins to speak, 'was once a Qi master meditating with one of his students in front of a Buddha statue. A large candle lit the golden Buddha. The student leaned toward his master and asked, "Master, where does the candlelight come from?" The Qi master blew out the candle and said, tell me where the light has gone, I will tell you where it comes from.
The message of this story is that you do not need to understand to work with it. That also counts for the Qi knowledge you have learned here. Scientific and from rational perspective, the concept of Qi is difficult to explain, but you can actually experience it yourself by applying the four Qi principles. Personal experience convinces people. Anyone who once felt the Qi energy knows that Qi exists."

The Magic of Life

At half past four the temple gong echoes through the monastery. In the temple room most of the monks are already murmuring and gently rocking back and forth. I sit down and wait for Phurba-lama to give the sign. I then get into a deep meditation, which seems to go by faster than ever before. Moments later I walk onto the patio and see Tenzing sitting there with his worn backpack beside him.

"Good morning, Peter, are you ready to go?" He asked cheerfully. "We're leaving right after breakfast."

"Fine, I will put the last of my stuff in my backpack."

In my room a melancholic feeling takes over me. That feeling is part of saying goodbye to loved ones. Before I close the door for the last time, I look around the soberly decorated room once more. Despite the primitive equipment, the room has something familiar and I have felt at home here.

Around half past seven, the monks come back with their filled bowls. After a breakfast of cereal, it is time to say goodbye to the monks. Phurba-lama and the monks see me off. Taking my last steps through the cloister makes me sad. How many times have I sat on my knees to scrub the floor stone by stone? The monastic life, I will really miss it! Outside at the gate, the monks are standing in a row. Each monk has a rotating prayer and they all murmur prayers. Maybe they are praying for me I think as I pick up my backpack. The friendly monks touch me deeply. I didn’t expect such a farewell.
With a deep sigh I walk through the gate outside. I make a slight bow to every monk out of respect. I walk from monk to monk bowing. The last monk in the line is Phurba-lama. I fold my hands over my chest together and make a respectfully long, deep bow. Phurba-lama grabs my hands and looks at me closely and smiles without saying anything other than the unpronounceable words of boundless love. Qi is flowing into every fiber of my body.

"Thank you, Phurba-lama, for the wisdom I have been able to receive from you."

"I did not teach you anything."

This answer puzzles me.

"Everyone has a wise master in his belly. In Sanskrit it is called master Gita. The Gita sees the invisible, feels the intangible, can hear what is not said and tells the unspoken. I could not teach you anything if you Gita did not allow it. Everything you've learned is due to your inner master."
I bow again for the old and wise monk, and notice he has a white silk scarf in his hands. He gives the scarf to me with two outstretched arms. I bow and take the scarf and put it around my neck.

"You're blessed to properly fulfill your life’s mission," Phurba-lama tells me.
For the last time I bow before him. Then I put on my backpack and walk back to Tenzing. There's a lump in my throat and a tear is rolling down my cheek. In the monastery, I found my life. It hurts me that I will have to miss these monks forever.

In a daze I walk on the plateau back to Tenzing. When I look back, the monks are still outside the monastery to see me off. After ten minutes we turn a narrow mountain path, which goes steeply downward. I stay on the edge of the platform waiting for a moment and I look back at the monastery. The monks have disappeared. The white monastery, with the fluttering white prayer flags, looks bright against the ink blue sky. I’ll have this image in my memory forever. Then I turn around and descend. A thick morning mist is below us. It makes me feel as I am walking above the clouds in the sky. The sun gives off a fog a milky color. It is as if the higher powers again show all their beauty and power. I stop to enjoy the view. I wish the world could be so beautiful and pure for everyone.
We descend down the rocky slope. We walk hour after hour at a steady pace. It is a hard workout and you have to be careful not to slip. But Qi is also a solution here. Because my body weight rests in the Qi point, I have more control this time.
It quickly begins to warm up and the morning fog has quietly disappeared. We don’t talk and only occasionally stop to relax our thigh muscles and a drink some water.

In the distance I can already see the village of Dhasa. About half an hour later we are walking through the town, where an old Sherpa woman addresses us. She is crippled by rheumatism and has a sun-weathered face, but her eyes are as bright as those of a young woman.
With a slight bow, I greet her. Unexpectedly, she grabs my hand and mumbles something to me. I gesture that I did not understand and call Tenzing, who translates her words to me: She wishes that you will stay happy in your life and wishes for Buddha to bless you.
I look at her with a smile. She is a lot smaller than me and I thank her with a slight head bow. We walk through the village with the friendly Sherpas again. A group of children are waving enthusiastically at us. The joy of life, which many rich Westerners are missing, is still here.

Next we have to make a tough descent. We walk three hours in one go, interrupted only by a short rest. The backpack is too tight around my shoulders and my thighs are slowly starting to burn. We pass three Sherpa women in primitive clothes while they are at work in the country. They put up their hands and look at us curiously.
We are already far below the tree line. All around us, I see beautiful fields of wildflowers, all colors of the rainbow. I missed this I suddenly realize. On the high, barren plateau at the monastery there were no flowers. The beauty of nature in all her glory is doing me good.

It’s now so hot that I have to take off my sweater. We stop at a fast flowing mountain stream in order to refresh ourselves and our thirst. I take off my hiking boots and sit on a big boulder while I put my feet in the creek. When I lower my tired feet in the cool flowing water, there is a cold and refreshing tingle going through them. I close my eyes and let the Qi flow. It gives me renewed energy!

We descend further, and the landscape starts to flatten around us. Flat plateaus and steep mountain paths alternate. Hour after hour passes and I train my Qi flow. It works, and the weariness dissolves into an endless nothing. Tenzing has picks up pace and only stops for little breaks. By using Qi I use significantly less energy than I did climbing up the mountains a few weeks ago.
Late in the afternoon we arrive, tired but satisfied, in Hyangja. The Jeep is waiting faithfully in the dust. Back to civilization! It feels crazy after spending weeks in the monastery. We throw our backpacks in the back and I drop myself into the passenger’s seat. Through the window I behold the scene. Everywhere along the roadside are stalls with merchandise, where people do their shopping for the evening. There is plenty of activity and shouting in the streets, which sounds extra hard to my ears. How does a man get so accustomed to the silence so quickly? I miss the silence already.

Tenzing immediately starts the engine and I smell the dirty diesel air. He turns the car and we drive out of Hyangja in the late afternoon sun. We go towards Pokhara, where we will spend the night. Tomorrow we will drive to Kathmandu, where the international airport will bring me back home.
We drive over unpaved, bumpy and winding roads on our way out of town. Occasionally we pass a small village. We don’t say much to each other. In silence man says more than with words.

It’s about half past seven in the evening when we arrive in Pokhara. In the glow of the headlights we see people on the side of the road. The jeep turns onto a street and stops in front of a simple hotel. There we are checked in at the reception by one of the staff members who speaks hardly any English. Tenzing and I decide that we will dine together in half an hour. In my hotel room, I throw off my backpack and put it on the bed. I walk into the bathroom. Yes, there is a hot shower! I take off my dirty clothes and throw them on a chair. Finally I can take a good and refreshing shower. What a delight!

Unfortunately, my cell phone has no connection, so I can’t reach Christine. In the hotel it’s not possible to get a call through to the Netherlands. I find Tenzing at half past eight in the lobby of the hotel. We leave the reception area and Tenzing steers me to a crowded terrace of a restaurant with the beautiful name of “Mountain View” that overlooks a large lake. In the distance, there are flickering oil lamps coming from fishermen on the lake. I order a steak with curry rice and a glass of beer. For the first time in five weeks I have meat and am looking intensely at a nice piece of juicy steak. Before dinner, I pause to give Tenzing room for his prayers. Then I start - as I've learned in the monastery - in silence and full attention to the eating. The steak is far too powerful. Certainly a quarter of it is going back to the kitchen. Apparently my stomach shrunk in the last few weeks.
But there is yet something else that has fundamentally changed. I take in my surroundings more sharply than I was used to do. It seems like I’m much more aware of the here and now. The colors are more intense and even the lights of the oil lamps appear to be brighter. I can oversee the restaurant, and I even have the feeling that I can feel people. It is as if the gray world around me has more color and shape to it all of a sudden.

After dinner I find Tenzing - under the influence of the beer - in an exuberant mood. The atmosphere is relaxed between us and we laugh together at a waiter who, judging by his clumsiness, seems to be on his first shift. "Tenzing, you started for me as a guide and ended up being my friend," I say at an unexpected moment.
Tenzing looks at me shyly.

"You're a beautiful person, Peter," he says.
We order a beer to toast to our friendship. After we pay the bill, it is time to go to sleep. I feel light headed because of the alcohol.

The next morning I, even without a temple gong, wake up at half past four. Immediately I get myself out of bed and open the window to meditate. Every day of my new life begins with a morning meditation. I don’t want to lose this good habit. The brightness that I experienced during the meditations in the convent is now here as well. Apparently I can become deeply relaxed without the help of Phurba-lama. The relaxation lies deep within me and I take it everywhere.

After the shower I go downstairs for breakfast. On the terrace, I sit at a table that looks out over the lake. In the distance I can see the mighty Himalayan giants. The milky morning fog is slowly dissolving, which gives a fabulous picture. I can hear the soothing Indian flute music in the background. This must be paradise. This is the turning point in my life. A waiter pours me a cup of coffee from a silver can. My first cup of coffee in a long time! I enjoy the coffee, the food and the view, and Tenzing joins me. Silently we eat breakfast. After we check out of the motel, we head towards Kathmandu. It’s quiet on the road as we drive alongside Lake Pokhara. The sun makes the colorful landscape seems as if they were litThe roof of the world is beautiful! The further we descend, the more numerous fields of flowers and trees we see. I cannot remember passing such beautiful nature on the way over here. We pass a group of Nepalese women. They have large straw baskets on their backs and are slowly climbing up the mountain. They look at us as we drive past. I see a flash of their tanned, deeply grooved faces. Beautiful people they are, still close to nature.
In the distance I can see the white peaks of the Himalayas. Somewhere over there is the monastery. A wistful feeling comes over me. I ask Tenzing to stop so I can enjoy the last frame of the Himalayan giants one last time. Than we drive for a few hours straight over bumpy roads. I feel like a milkshake!

Around lunchtime we arrive in Gorkha. The village consists of only one main street, lined with small houses. Tenzing parks his jeep in front of the only eatery in the village and we go inside. The restaurant has only two wooden tables, but it looks pretty clean. We sit at the empty table and Tenzing orders a vegetable curry with rice and tea. A young man at the other table is eating a plate of white rice while watching us curiously. Apparently not many tourists come here. While we are eat the man keeps staring at us as if we come from another planet. It feels uncomfortable, but I let it slip by me. In the last miles to Kathmandu we pass the Indriwata River, which meanders around the Kathmandu Valley. I see a number of Sherpa women with large baskets of tea leaves on their shoulders walking towards the big city. Tenzing stops the jeep along the river to give me the opportunity to refresh myself. I sprinkle the fresh mountain river water on my face. I am about to leave the world of deep peace and quiet, and I realize this all too well. In the hectic Kathmandu I’ll arrange a flight back to Amsterdam.

The moment we drive into Kathmandu, the streets become more crowded immediately. Not much later we get into a traffic jam between the smelly cars. On the right in an alley I see a covered market bustling with activity. Swarms of people are there, all trying to get their daily food together. The smell and noise overwhelm me. After more than five weeks of silence, I have to get used to everyday life again.

Traffic starts to drive again and Tenzing drops me off at Hotel Narayani minutes later, the same hotel where he picked Christine and me up a couple of weeks ago. I grab my backpack from the jeep. It's time to say goodbye. In the car, I counted the money for the services of Tenzing. Above the agreed amount, I made a big tip.

"Thank you very much," says Tenzing with a slight bow, as I hand him the stack of bills. "I hope you fulfill your lifework, as it is intended. If you do not remember, think back to the convent and the magnificent places I've shown you."

"Friends forever," I say as I embrace Tenzing. Shyly he looks at me and bows again.
We exchange our addresses and I look at the man in his fifties with the energy of a young man in the prime of his life. Tenzing smiles at me once more. Then he starts the jeep and drives off honking. I wave at him until he has disappeared from sight. What a special man! He appeared to me at the right time in my life. Without Tenzing I’d have never been in the monastery. I grab my backpack. What day this has been!

At the reception area of the hotel, I check in. After seeing my passport, the receptionist hands me a sealed envelope. I immediately recognize the handwriting of Christine. An assistant brings my backpack to my room and there I fall on the bed. I immediately rip open the envelope.

My Dear Peter,

If you receive this letter, we are almost back together. I miss you terribly! Call me directly.
I love you!

Kiss Christine.

I get emotional and it grabs me by the throat so hard that I have to swallow.
Again, there is no connection for my mobile phone, so I pick up the phone on the bedside table and ask at reception for an international call.
It must be around eleven o'clock in the evening in Amsterdam and hopefully Christine is still awake. I give the number to the receptionist and wait nervously until the connection is made. How will she react?
The connection is made and the phone rings at the other end of the line. After three times I hear someone respond.

"With Christine," I hear while the line is making some noises. I swallow. Her voice makes me emotional.

"Hey, it’s Peter,"
Then there is a pause at the other end of the line. She’s probably been waiting for this call for so long now that she didn’t expect it.

"Hi, sweetheart," Christine finally yells out. "Where are you?"

"I’m still in Kathmandu. Tomorrow I'm going to book a flight."
Christine suddenly begins to cry and then I cannot hold back my own tears.

"I love you so much," I say softly after I’ve calmed down a little bit. It feels strange that I’m more sensitive than before.

"I love you and I miss you terribly. How are you?” Christine asks.

"I am a changed person and I have a mission to fulfill. How are you holding up? "

"I am ok, I miss you terribly," says Christine. "I am happy that you will be home soon."

We agree that I’ll call her tomorrow when I find out my flight schedule. After the line is dead, I keep the phone next to my ear for a while. Not only I have changed, but my relationship has improved. The love is back! How can a human life change so much in just five weeks time? The magic of life has touched me.

The Journey Home

It’s pitch dark as I walk out of the hotel in search of an eatery. I stop at a restaurant with an appealing name: "The Monk.” Just before I go inside though, my gaze falls on a small bronze gong that a street salesman is selling. The gong makes me recall the temple gong in the monastery. After some negotiation the gong is mine. In “The Monk” there are few guests. I choose a table by the window. A young waiter comes over to me and he makes an obsequious bow. I order chicken with cashew nuts and rice beer.
While sitting at the table, I think about what my life will be like when I'm back in the Netherlands.

The next morning I check to see if there’s a flight back to the Netherlands. Luck is on my side again. There is a flight leaving to Frankfurt the same evening, from where I can fly to Amsterdam. I buy a ticket and call Christine to tell her my flight schedule. By her voice I can tell how happy she is that we will see each other soon. The rest of the afternoon I spend doing last minute shopping and packing my backpack. Then I check out and take a taxi to the airport. For the last time I drive through the busy streets of Kathmandu with the constantly moving traffic. In my heart I know that I will leave the Himalayas behind me for a long time. But once I will return to the monastery, wiser and more mature and full of Qi energy.

I check in at the airport. My luggage is tagged and taken. I go through customs and with my last rupees I purchase a beautiful picture book about the Himalayas. In the waiting room I flip through the book. There are beautiful pictures of Nepal. They show daily life, the many temples and beautiful views of the Himalayas. On one of the photos I think I recognize the mountain lake that Tenzing and I went by on my trip to the monastery. The plane leaves at exactly 11 o'clock in the evening. Unfortunately, the Himalayan giants are not visible in the darkness. I take out my only book and start to read it again out of boredom until I fall asleep. The next morning a friendly flight attendant wakes me for breakfast. After breakfast I get up and walk to the toilet. It’s very busy. In front of me, a man that’s about 40-years-old is waiting as well. He has a friendly, open face and dark hair in which the first gray stripes are becoming visible. We start to talk and he introduces himself as Wilco de Boer. After using the toilet, I walk back to my seat. When I pass Wilco, he asks me to sit beside him. The seat next to him is empty and we continue our conversation. Wilco has a training institute. The institute is under construction and he has worked hard all year without even one day off. When he came to the end of his strength, he took a month’s vacation. In that time he went to see the Langtang area. I tell him that I along with Christine went trekking in a part of the Langtang area.
There is a click between us and I tell him about the monastery and the Qi knowledge I gained there. Wilco is extremely interested and wants to know everything about the monks. I tell him that I see it as my task in life to spread the Qi knowledge around the world.

"What would be your ideal picture?" Wilco asks me.
I think about that for a moment.

"First I want to write a book about the monastery and about the Qi knowledge. Then I want to give some workshops and perhaps even open my own Qi center."

"How do you imagine that will work?"

"In the workshops I will let people experience the power of Qi first-hand. Once people feel the life energy flowing through their bodies fully, they will want nothing else ever again. The workshops should be held in a serene space, which should be a reminiscent of the monastery. Maybe an old church, where spirituality has reigned for centuries, but also a former convent would be a great location. Perhaps these workshops will become so big that it would be time for a real Qi center, a place where people can experience Qi and where they can come to terms with themselves. In my dream, there will be Qi centers around the world. So that the Qi knowledge will be accessible to everyone and it will help people to use their inner strength in their daily lives."
Wilco nods that he understands my dreams and he asks me for my contact information. After I give him my name, email address and telephone number, I go back to my own seat.

After I land in Frankfurt I have to wait another hour before I fly to the Netherlands. The tension increases. Just a little longer and then I see Christine again! Wilco stays in Frankfurt. Somehow, I regret that I didn’t ask for his address. After one last cup of coffee we land at Schiphol. Finally back home!

Home at Last!

My heart is pounding in my throat and I tensely look around. I'm waiting for my luggage at the conveyor belt already and am looking towards the exit too see if I can catch a glimpse of Christine. Immediately after I landed, I talked to her on the phone and I understand that she’ll be waiting for me at the exit. Finally I grab my backpack and walk through customs to the exit. The electronic door slides open and I see her standing straight ahead of me. She seems more beautiful than I remember. I throw my bags on the floor and run towards her. We are in each other's arms and I pull her close to me. We kiss passionately, as if we have not seen each other for years. An old man waiting next to us, looks visibly amused at our enthusiasm. We missed each other very much, that's obvious.

"Gee, you look good," says Christine, when she looks at me at an arm’s length distance.

I am indeed very confident and with much more energy than ever before. I’ve also lost the excess pounds and I sport a face tanned by the sun.. I take my luggage off the ground and we walk arm in arm to a cafeteria, where I tell my story enthusiastically. We talk about the monks and the monastery extensively. I tell her about Phurba-lama, the dark cave and the Qi principles. All my experiences come out in a waterfall of words.

"Beautiful and special," Christine mutters repeatedly.
My enthusiasm about Qi makes Christine curious. We walk to the parked car, get in and drive home.

At home there is a big surprise waiting for me. Christine has invited a couple of friends as a welcoming committee. I tell all about my stay in the monastery. I tell our friends about the Qi energy and let them experience the Qi through a couple of exercises. With a puzzled look on their faces they stare at me. They have no idea how much inner strength they really possess. One by one they leave for home, and the two of us are finally at home alone. It doesn’t take long before we are upstairs on the bed, and it feels like we are making love for the first time. After all these weeks, the passion is finally released. Afterwards Christine lies happily in my arms.

"I'm glad you're home. I've missed you so much."
I have the same feelings. Then it’s quiet for a moment and we enjoy being together. Half an hour later we drink coffee downstairs with our bathrobes still on.

"Have you heard from the bank?" I ask.

"There came a signed letter for you. I have not opened it yet."
I know immediately what that means and get up to grab the letter. Indeed, Rick has kept his word and has fired me, but with a large farewell sum. There is no turning back!

The next morning, the jet lag goes to work and I don’t wake up until nine o’ clock. Christine is already up and brings me a cup of tea in bed. She agrees with the idea to meditate every morning. We walk to a bedroom in our house, which until now has served as an ironing room. Next to the ironing board is a mountain of washed clothes waiting to be ironed. After we clean up the laundry, we sit in meditation. First I give Christine instructions on deep meditation. Then I hit the gong I bought back with me.

The ironing room doesn’t have the magic of the monastery, and it takes me some time to find peace in myself. The natural peace of the Himalayas is not with me here, but it’s important that I access the deep inner peace from my own home. By concentrating on my Qi breathing, I finally manage to get in deep meditation. That now familiar feeling of clarity and peace is back. I can meditate here in Amsterdam just as well. After the meditation, Christine tells me that she’s been having trouble finding peace.

"Meditation takes time," I say to her encouragingly.
The rest of the afternoon we just hang around the house, and I work my way through my pile of mail from the last few weeks. Late in the afternoon we take a walk in the forest and I practice my Qi exercises together with Christine. I am not looking forward till tomorrow. I was summoned to the bank to hand in my card and get my personal belongings. That will be the end of my career there.

After my morning meditation and Qi exercises I feel strong and I get down to the bank, a huge building surrounded by marbles. Rick wants to see me personally. When he sees me, he turns around and without saying a word he walks off with short, quick-tempered steps. I shrug. I start to pack my personal belongings off the shelf and put them in the crate. Hardly any of my colleagues acknowledge me. They sit staring intently at their screens. The show must go on! It's hectic at the stock market, and the attention of traders should never drop. Even with so many screens and people around me, I feel abandoned. There are other laws which count here: every man for himself on the hunt for big money.
After I have put the last of my stuff in a plastic bag, I give my close colleagues handshakes.

"Take care, Peter," they say, but they don’t really real pay attention or interest in me.

As the door of the highly secure dealing room closes behind me, I know that this is a good thing. I have a leased vehicle that I have to return at the end of the month. With that I will be totally done with the bank. Strangely it doesn’t hurt to say goodbye, and it rather feels like the birth of a new time in my life.

The next week I spend most of my time in the attic which I have furnished as a temporary office. Every morning, when Christine is away at work, I get behind my computer screen. Writing comes to me easily and I thoroughly enjoy it. While writing I find it hard to describe my emotions, even though the manuscript steadily progresses.
In between I do my Qi exercises and train my thighs. Also, I find time for fixed periods of meditation.

The silence in the attic makes me feel good about my experiences. By writing my story, I get to experience my stay in the monastery for the second time. I find myself comfortable in my own skin and I stay true to myself. I now know myself better and the contact is restored.
Dreams begin to play an important role in my life. First of all, I dream more than I have ever before, and now I often remember my dreams. Once I'm awake, I write them down for later interpretation.
On my first night back I took the sleeping pills from my nightstand and threw them in the trash. I do not need them.

The days fly by when I’m writing, meditating and training the Qi principles through the exercises.
On a normal Monday evening, about a month after I returned, the phone rings during dinner. I pick it up.

"Peter Blokland.”

"Good evening, it’s Wilco."

"Wilco?"

"Yes, Wilco de Boer. We met on the plane from Kathmandu to Frankfurt, remember?"
I distinctly remember who he is.

"Do you remember when we talked about a Qi center?"

"Yes!"

"Guess what? I spoke to a friend from Amsterdam yesterday. He told me that there is a small church in Amsterdam, which is available to rent. I immediately thought of you. Maybe you can start giving Qi workshops there? "

This opportunity came my way for a reason. We agree to meet the next day at noon at the white church in Amsterdam. Suddenly, my future is in motion. Besides the Qi book, there are now opportunities for workshops to acquaint people with their own Qi power. I feel the energy rushing throughout my body. Christine is also enthusiastic about the idea of starting the Qi workshops. My new life is slowly starting to take shape. The enthusiasm is great. Immediately upon entering the white church, I feel the special atmosphere and energy. It's the atmosphere I knew from the monastery, high in the Himalayas. This is the place for people to experience their Qi.
I’ve been developing Qi workshops, and I have a manuscript that is now ready to send. A publisher has already shown interest and a Qi book is not far away anymore. Unbelievable how fast my life has changed. Less than three months ago I was a severely depressed banker who couldn’t sleep without sleeping pills.

I look on the calendar and notice that today is October 10th, 1999. I'm with Christine and many of my friends in the white church in Amsterdam. On my desk are a pile of Qi books. I am proud of the result.
While receiving the praise of the editor, my thoughts went to Phurba-lama in the monastery. Life has so much to offer when you have discovered the Qi power within you.

As long as there is suffering and misfortune,
as long as the human kind exists,
as long as I continue to be
Qi can help the world with its suffering.

Finally I can let my light shine and people will see me as I really am. I take the first Qi book from publisher and there is a big applause.
This is first step to spread the light over the world.

Working with Qi

After reading this book it is time for action. You can use the knowledge from the monastery in your daily live as well. It makes you more energetic and powerful. You only have to use the four Qi principles. The stronger you are connected to this life energy, the stronger you are in life.

The best way to learn Qi, is by practicing, and preferably not alone, but with others. I wish you the best of luck in your personal development and I wish you inner peace and an energetic life. This way you can better withstand our current society where we are always very busy.

Thank you for all your time and attention!

Qi principles

At the end of this book, I will summarize the concept of Qi and the four Qi principles. They are the basis for an energetic and happy life.

Discover your inner strength with Qi
Qi is the life energy that our body needs to function properly. It is our connection to the universe and everything around us. Someone with a low Qi flow feels tired, lifeless and weak. If the Qi flow is blocked for long one can eventually get sick and / or depressed. A healthy, unobstructed flow of Qi gives people unlimited access to their inner strength. By an active Qi flow you will feel energetic and powerful. You can do more than you ever thought possible. People with an active Qi flow have a strong appeal to others. They feel more energetic and operate from an inner peace. To get an active Qi stream you will need to develop your four Qi principles. Remember, you do not have to apply all the four principles at the same time. If you have mastered one, directly the Qi will start to flow through your body and you will experience the thrill of a Qi nourished body, with as a result you will feel a tingling sensation in your body.

Qi principle 1: bring your attention to the Qi point
The first Qi principle is to put your attention and your body weight in Qi point. The Qi point is where the connection between you and the universe is made. The point is three flat fingers below the bellybutton and two inches inside of you. You can easily test yourself. If you coughed, the Ki-point will push slightly outward. Let your attention and your body weight rest in this point. The stress will disappear and you feel more energetic and balanced than ever. How do you know if your attention in your Qi point? It is easy to test.
Stand with knees slightly bent and let your attention and your body weight rest in the Qi point.
Let someone else press with a flat hand against your chest.
If you are focusing correctly at your Qi point you will stand as firm as a block, without it costing you any energy. If you cannot manage your weight in your Qi point location, you will surely fall backwards.
Keep practicing your Qi! For example if you walk, when you are waiting for the train or just about anywhere: bring your attention and your body weight to the Qi point and only focus on one of the Qi principles. A powerful stream of Qi will nourish your body.

Qi principle 2: relax completely
People who fight their way through life have a tense body. This tension doesn’t go away easily, and it will inevitably lead to stress and health problems.
How do we stay up in our modern world? Unfortunately we do not live in peace somewhere on top of a Himalayan peak. With the current bombardment of information and social pressure from the environment, is not easy to stay relaxed. Western people wind up quickly and will fight against the conditions. Understanding these settings will provide the solution.
Begin to accept the situation as it is. If you accept life, you cannot fight it anymore. That is the basis for relaxation in life. A good exercise to practice relaxation is the ice water steam drill:
Imagine that you are entirely of ice. Tighten all your muscles. You are hard and brittle.
Imagine then that the ice melts. Let your arms relaxed at your sides. Melt water drops falling from your fingers. Let the tension melt from your body. The hard, brittle ice is transformed into liquid water. Water can’t break, while ice can!
Imagine finally that the room is filled with steam that carries you away. Now you can relax yourself completely.

Qi Principle 3: Keep Your Weight at the Bottom
The third Qi principle is to keep your weight at the bottom. The waiting room is full of physiotherapists with people who go against this Qi principle. Stress leads to a tight back and hunched up shoulders, creating a constant battle with gravity. Back, shoulders and neck muscles constantly tire themselves, leading to health problems.
You should not fight with gravity. It takes too much energy and you never win. Your weight goes on the bottom at home. Hang your arms and your shoulders down. Focus on sitting on the contact between the seat and your butt. When you lie in bed feel the contact with the mattress. You will notice that you will sleep better than ever before.

Qi Principle 4: Let the Qi Flow Outward
This is a very powerful Qi principle. By letting the Qi flow out, you stimulate an optimal contact with the universe. This way you will solve blockages in your body. The flow is replaced by fresh Qi from the universe. So you are constantly recharged.
The easiest way to stimulate the flow of Qi is through your hands and feet. Imagine that your hands and feet take the energy from the universe.
An exercise for this Qi principle is putting out the fire:
Put your arm up at an angle.
Imagine that your arm is a hose through which a strong stream of water comes out. There is powerful flow of water that goes through your arm, and you cannot let your arm bend.
You experience a slight tingling feeling in your hands and feet when the Qi flow in your body is set in motion.

Success, love and happiness are within you. They are desperately waiting to be released. The key to happiness is already within you..
Qi must be the key to everything ...

Good luck!

Qi Meditation

It is very good for you to start – just like the monks do - the day with a short meditation. The purpose of meditation is to clear your mind of thoughts and let your heart fill with love:
close your eyes and breathe in through your Qi point (4 seconds)
hold your breath for 2 seconds down
Now breath out from your Qi point (6 seconds).

The positive energy will flow through you, and you will experience a positive energy and power. By focusing on breathing, thoughts will disappear like snow in the sunlight. This way you reach a higher consciousness, where silence and wisdom reign.

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